


Like a Fire Alight

by ellerean



Series: Fluid Like Water [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Divergence, College, F/M, Post-Series, midorima is just an awkward roommate, rinharu is super-secondary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While his friends are off striving for their Olympic dreams, Makoto settles into Tokyo to begin the next phase of his own life. He learns of college and city life, and finds himself speaking to a certain girl from home a lot more often than he thought he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin-off to [Fluid Like Water](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1466899/chapters/3091309), and is essentially Makoto's story in the same time frame. Greatly condensed. (I am _not_ making this as long as that one.) Makoto and Gou have this little side-story there that I desperately wanted to expand upon, so... obviously that means I need another fic.
> 
> That means this fic contains Fluid Like Water spoilers. In case you're planning on reading it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains spoilers for FLW chapters 1 to 6.

He’d been told college would be a lot different than life in Iwatobi. And it wasn’t merely the prospect of _college_ —it was attending high school in a small, remote town and then trying to settle into a city.

Not just any city—this was _Tokyo_.

To his surprise, Makoto settled in fairly well. He wondered if city life was what he’d always needed. It was hard watching his family leave, and even harder to hold back tears as the twins cried. They’d been fine on the long ride to Tokyo, and it had been fun for them carry big brother’s stuff to his new room, but then they realized they couldn’t stay. And that he wouldn’t be with them on the ride home.

“You can call me whenever you want,” he’d said, as they both scrambled into his arms. “And you can tell all your friends about your onii-chan in college.”

But the moment the car drove off, and Makoto was back in his dorm room, he couldn’t help but sob.

His roommate lifted a curious eyebrow.

“Sorry, Midorima-san,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I’ve never been away from home this long. I won’t see them again until Christmas!”

His roommate was a little weird, and really quiet. It was impossible not to notice that he always taped his fingers, and his face revealed no trace of emotion—though Makoto was used to the latter, at least. Now, Midorima sat back in his desk chair, ignoring the innumerable message alerts on his computer from the same person, over and over, probably a friend from home. But he shrugged, and Makoto couldn’t decide whether he was being understanding or already annoyed over his crybaby of a roommate.

But over time, they talked more. They’d both been high school athletes, so there was some common ground. Midorima, too, was majoring in education, though he spent most of his free time playing basketball. Makoto tried to play with him a few times, but his roommate had little patience for his rudimentary skills.

“How can you be so tall,” Midorima would ask, “and not be able to shoot?”

Ultimately, they’d given up on that attempt at bonding.

He made friends in his classes, and those living in his dorm, but what made Makoto happiest was receiving emails from Rin. Haru hadn’t ventured into the world of email communication yet, but Rin promised to pester him about it.

At first, he’d been nervous about Haru living by himself in a city. Kyoto wasn’t as big as Tokyo, but it certainly wasn’t Iwatobi. Home was where Haru was comfortable, and he’d expressed little interest in leaving. Even when they’d started their third year of high school, it didn’t look like Haru would ever leave that small town. It was where he belonged.

But then Rin had been scouted. He’d join the swim club at Kyoto, and suddenly Haru had decided on a college. He had a _major_. And Makoto rested easy, knowing they’d be in the same city. They were recently engaged, which he’d been a little wary about—they were barely out of high school, and thinking about _marriage_ on top of everything else. Makoto didn’t even have someone he _liked_ , let alone wanted to marry.

Where would they get married, anyway, if not Japan?

 

* * *

 

Midorima only read the horoscopes and sports sections of the paper, leaving the rest of the newspaper in the trash. Once, he’d leaned over his desk and shoved an article in Makoto’s face. “Isn’t this your friend?” he asked.

Makoto squinted at the blurry picture. “It’s Rin!”

The article didn’t say much, only that he was new to the Kyoto Swim Club and showed “promise.” It boasted his record-breaking times in high school, and there was a small photo of him flashing a wide grin. “Can I keep this?” Makoto asked, and Midorima merely shrugged as he returned to the rest of the paper. He carefully cut out the article, then tacked it to the bulletin board over his desk. _Rin Matsuoka, from Iwatobi_. He took a picture of it, emailing it to the members of the Iwatobi Swim Club—and, of course, Rin.

He missed them a lot. He loved his new friends at University of Tokyo, and he was getting along surprisingly well with his neurotic roommate, but he really missed his friends from home.

And he missed swimming, too. He didn’t want to join the team right away, because he was far from professional. But he’d attend the meets. Sometimes Midorima would accompany him, since Makoto attended his home games. The pool was so familiar, even if the faces weren’t. He loved watching the relays and the backstroke heats, and everyone got excited over the freestyle races.

“You swim like that?” he roommate asked, as the backstroke race began.

Makoto watched them intently. They swam hard and fast, and it felt strange being on the outside. Like he was watching himself. “Yeah,” he replied wistfully.

Midorima glared over the rim of his glasses. “Then why aren’t you on the team?”

The question was at the forefront of his mind all through night class: Why _not_? He’d settled into Tokyo well, and he was keeping his grades up, so why not? It was too late to join for this term, but he considered asking about the next. No, he didn’t want to be a professional athlete, not like Haru and Rin. He didn’t have the skill like they did. But he still wanted to be in the pool. He was still a swimmer.

A group was going to the bar following night class, and Makoto greatly looked forward to the break from studying. They piled out of the building, heading into the city, when his phone rang.

“It’s Haru,” he said. They nodded as he hung back, quickly picking up the phone. “Haru!”

“Makoto.” He still _sounded_ like Haru. It was good to hear him, like he was down the street instead of five hundred kilometers away. Haru had just gotten out of night class, too. Makoto stepped back from the crowd, allowing them to walk ahead, but Haru still heard the commotion. “I can call back,” he said.

“No, it’s okay!” he replied. “It’s you, so they understand.”

It struck him as strange all of a sudden, how his college friends knew Haru. How they’d never met, but they readily accepted his phone call. How they could be on their way to perform their college duties—drinking at the bar until odd hours of the night—but still, his best friend from home took priority.

Makoto spoke of his classes, and the people he’d met, and Haru asked if his roommate was still weird. Makoto asked if Rin was still weird, too, and they laughed over the obvious answers.

“I’m thinking about trying out for the swim team,” Makoto said, trying to speak up over the passing traffic. “I could join next term!”

“Makoto . . .”

“Don’t worry!” He smiled, even if Haru couldn’t see it over the phone. “I’ll be fine!”

“It’s not that.” Haru paused. He couldn’t sense what he was thinking, but . . . “I want to swim.”

It wasn’t just about swimming at the club. Haru could do that whenever he wanted. This was something _more_. Something Makoto always knew would happen, that Gou was surprised hadn’t, and that Rin wished for every day. Haru was ready—he was going to swim. But still, he asked, “Are you sure?” Because it meant everything would change. His relationship with Rin; his plans for college. His life.

“Yeah.”

Makoto felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He hadn’t even realized they’d been tense, and perhaps they _had_ been ever since Haru had gone off to college. Because college wasn’t his dream. Being an art student wasn’t what he wanted. Haru wanted to swim—he wanted to swim with Rin—and it was what he’d always been meant to do. He smiled. “Then tell him, Haru.”

 

Rin had emailed him in the early hours of morning. Though they were just characters on the screen, Makoto could tell he cried through the entire thing.

Later that afternoon, he called Gou. “Did Rin email you?”

“Yes!” She squealed. “Onii-chan is so happy.”

He nodded. “Haru is, too.”

Haru would try to train between keeping up with his schoolwork, he knew, but it wouldn’t last. It was too much, and he didn’t _care_ about art like he cared about swimming. They may be living far apart, but they still knew each other instinctively.

“Do you think they’ll really get married so soon?” Gou asked.

“Hmm?” Makoto snapped back to the conversation. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know . . .” But he did—he had the same thoughts, though hadn’t expressed them. It was a relief that Gou was wary, too, that she had her doubts. But before he could agree, she quickly changed the topic. “Mom and I will be in Tokyo next week to look at some schools! It would be great to see you.”

He knew there was no way to refuse, even if he’d wanted to. He’d spoken to Rin’s and Gou’s mother before, but not extensively. That fact made little difference—when they met him outside his dorm the following weekend, Matsuoka-san hugged him just as fiercely as her daughter had.

“You’re gonna show us all the hot spots around town, right?” she asked, elbowing him.

“I— I don’t know much,” he said with a weak laugh.

Gou grabbed his wrist and nearly dragged him down the sidewalk.

They ate at a sushi joint that was overrun with students, popular for its cheap prices. The fish wasn’t as fresh as they had in Iwatobi, but it was good. Gou’s mom spoke even more than Gou did—she wanted to know all about Tokyo, and whether it was safe, and details about the coursework at his school.

“ _Mom_ ,” Gou whined. “I haven’t _picked_ a school yet. And we don’t even have the same major!”

Gou had settled on sports therapy, she explained, which suited her. Makoto only half-listened to her spiel on muscles, having heard it before, but the fetish had a slightly more . . . _professional_ air. She’d been studying, he could tell.

“Give me your arm,” she commanded, holding out a hand for him.

“Eh?” But even in his confusion, he automatically complied. She instructed him to flex and he looked pleadingly to her mom, who only giggled behind her hand.

“Gou’s very enthusiastic,” she explained.

“Y-Yes . . .”

Her small hands worked up his arm, explaining each muscle, including ones he didn’t know the names of. She claimed his shoulders were tense, though with her hands all over them in public it was hard to relax. He shivered when a hand rested on his back—his _charm point_ , he remembered—her fingers lightly grazing his trapezius . . .

“I- I think that’s good,” he said, squirming.

“But you’re the best study!” she cried.

“Maybe _not_ at a restaurant,” her mother admitted. Makoto only hoped none of his classmates were there at the time, watching.

He then showed them around campus, walking around the building where she’d attend class if she were accepted there. Gou poked her head into a classroom, which looked like any other except for the skeletal and muscular system posters lining the walls. “Fascinating,” she said, staring up at one of them.

“You’re not getting one for your room,” her mother said, dragging her out of the room.

“But it’s for _school_!”

Gou’s mom received a work call as they were heading for the dorms, so she waved them off to go in without her. If she seemed concerned about her daughter visiting a boy’s dorm room she didn’t show it, and besides, Gou was already bounding up the stairs for the front door. “Come on, Makoto-senpai! I want to see a college boy’s dorm.”

“It’s just me,” he said, unlocking the door. “And you don’t have to call me senpai anymore!” It wasn’t the first time he’d requested it. Once Gou started asking him about college, it felt weird for her to use such a formal honorific when he now considered her a contemporary.

He wasn’t lucky enough to have his roommate not hanging around when they got to the room—and he couldn’t even be doing something _normal_. Midorima looked up from his desk, where he’d been polishing a tiny gold figurine of a tree.

“Today’s lucky item,” he say, as way of explanation. Gou furrowed her brows as Makoto sighed. But Midorima lifted his head higher, adjusting his glasses as he noticed Gou in the doorway. A _girl_.

“Shintaro, this is Gou, my friend from home,” he said, stressing on the “friend.” Gou quickly bowed as his roommate scrambled up from his desk.

“I was just leaving,” he said, cradling the figuring to his chest.

“You don’t have to—” Before Makoto could finish, he’d pushed past them and shuffled down the hallway.

“Weird,” Gou muttered, as Makoto stepped into the room.

He chuckled. “He takes some getting used to.”

With the room now clear, Gou looked around. She stood in the center of the room, hands clasped behind her back, studying it. “Not much to it.” She pointed to a basketball poster on the wall. “And where are _your_ posters?”

“I have this!” Makoto sat at his desk and pointed to the small bulletin board on the wall, which was littered with newspaper articles. Anything that mentioned Rin’s or Haru’s names went on the board, even if it was just a list of results. Gou leaned over his shoulder. “This is _better_ than posters.”

He’d read the articles so many times, but he waited for Gou to skim them all. He watched her as she read, pleased with her wide smile and the little chirps of joy whenever she caught her brother’s name.

“I’m surprised you get so much news out here,” she said.

“Well,” Makoto replied, “they _are_ nationally-ranked.”

His back was cold when she backed away, having already grown used to her radiated warmth. He spun around in the chair, leaning on the back, as she flopped to sit on his bed. “It took Haru-nii enough time to agree to swim, too. Any longer and they wouldn’t have accepted him.”

Makoto nodded. “Haru . . . well, he does things in his own time.”

She blew a wayward strand of hair from her face. “Don’t I know it.”

Her mom called to ask what room they were in—someone else had let her into the dorm, though Makoto didn’t want to ask how she’d managed it. It wasn’t until she appeared in the doorway did he realize Gou was sitting on his _bed_ , and despite his nervous sweat over the fact Gou didn’t seem to be phased by it.

“It’s such a _boys’_ room,” her mother said, glancing around.

“They’re _boys_ , Mom.” Gou leaped from the bed. “But look at all this stuff on onii-chan and Haru-nii!”

Makoto had a framed photograph on the dresser, too, of the Iwatobi and Samezuka relay teams. It was one of the last photos they’d taken together, and Gou’s mom immediately zeroed in on it. She picked up the frame in both hands, looking over each face before focusing on one bright-eyed grin right in the group’s center. “I’m so glad he’s doing it,” she said, smiling as she set the frame back down.

He walked them out of the door, shared another round of hugs, and watched them leave. When he returned to his room, the dorm was too quiet. Makoto didn’t know when his roommate would return, but he enjoyed the solitude for a while. He checked his email, unsurprised to see two from Rin, but laughed out loud when Haru’s name appeared in the sender’s list.

“His first email,” he said, clicking that one first.

It had photos of the apartment, as he’d promised. The place was small, but looked comfortable. He knew that Haru spent most nights there, and he picked up on the little hints of his residency—a sketchbook on the table, an apron hanging in the kitchenette. There was a small collage on the bedroom wall, which had nature photos (mostly waterfalls) and formal suits, which he assumed was Rin’s wedding notes.

Haru mostly spoke about swimming in his email, and a little about school, but nothing about the wedding.

In contrast, it was all Rin spoke about—they’d be getting married in Australia, he’d told him, following the championship meet. He wanted Makoto’s opinions on things, since Haru was seemingly indifferent. “You know Haru,” Rin wrote, probably not realizing how true that statement was.

Rin wrote about the blog he’d set up. Makoto checked it every morning, and Gou emailed him each time there was an update. She was still gushing over them swimming together, and she would forward photos he hadn’t seen that Rin emailed her. Most were of Haru. He still hadn’t mastered actually smiling for photos, but his pout wasn’t as pronounced. He had a small blush on his cheeks, which Makoto knew wasn’t just from swimming. Rin would be in the photos sometimes, and Haru’s face glowed when their faces were pressed together to fit into the shot.

 _“I’m so happy,”_ Gou wrote, the words insubstantial for everything he felt himself.

 

* * *

 

Makoto wanted to say he wasn’t expecting it, but the late-night text from Rin came as no surprise. He felt even worse when he realized he’d been waiting for it to happen:

_Haru doesn’t wanna marry me.”_

Makoto was already in bed, and he hoped his phone’s silent buzz didn’t wake his roommate. Midorima shifted in the bottom bunk, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t woken up. _“What happened?”_ Makoto texted back.

_“I just wanted us to be happy. He doesn’t want to get married in Australia. Help :(”_

This wasn’t a conversation Makoto wanted to have over text, nor at that hour. He had an early exam the next morning, plus he was afraid to wake his roommate with the dull light from the phone. Makoto curled into the corner, pulling the blanket over his head as he texted. _“Please talk to Haru.”_

Before he could think to add something else, Rin said, _“gtg he’s here.”_

 _Here?_ Makoto thought, staring at the message. _Where did he go?_

Makoto got all the details from Gou the following day, who called before breakfast.

“Haru-nii wants to wait,” she said. He could hear the clang of hangers in the background, like she hadn’t dressed for school yet. “I told onii-chan it’s smart, but you know how stubborn he is.”

“That’s true . . .” He sighed. “I just feel bad for Rin.”

“Don’t,” she said. “He feels bad enough for himself. But you know them! They’ll be _fine_.”

He didn’t doubt it. But still Makoto sat at his desk, staring at the newspaper his roommate had discarded before heading for the shower.

He could hear her attempts to be chipper through the phone. “Don’t worry about it, Makoto-senpai!” He flipped to the swimming section of the paper, though their names weren’t there that day.

 

Gou called him again later that night, and he didn’t give it a chance to fully ring once before answering. He’d just returned from dinner; he sat in the stairwell so not to disturb his roommate’s studying.

“Haru-nii is here,” Gou said. “He’s sleeping in onii-chan’s room now.”

Makoto scratched the back of his neck. “Rin’s not there?”

“No . . . he’s still in Kyoto.”

But Haru seemed to be okay, based on her detailed play-by-play—they’d gone swimming, though Makoto hadn’t realized she knew how to; her mom had conveniently made mackerel for dinner, which was a sure way to get him to do anything.

“Call if you need me, even if it’s the middle of the night.” Though Makoto wasn’t sure what he could do from nearly seven hundred kilometers away. “I’m glad he’s with you.”

He could hear her happy sigh over the phone, envisioning her small, content smile. “Thank you, Makoto.”

 

* * *

 

Gou visited Tokyo again before the end of the school year. Makoto had officially joined the swim team, and didn’t have a lot of free time outside practice, but he readily agreed to dinner after practice let out.

When he got to the restaurant, still smelling slightly of chlorine, he was surprised that Gou’s mother wasn’t with her. He assumed she was in the restroom, or maybe he’d missed her on the phone outside. Gou waited inside, a duffel bag over her shoulder—she hadn’t checked into her hotel yet—and a smile that illuminated the dimly-lit restaurant. She held on tight when they hugged, like it had been ages since they’d last met. Makoto realized it had been.

“Where’s your mom?” he asked, once they were settled at a table for two.

“It’s just me!” She grinned over her menu. “Disappointed?”

“Not at all! You came to Tokyo _by yourself_?”

“It’s not _that_ bad. But the ride is a little boring.”

As she read her menu, Makoto kept on glancing at her. The lighting in the restaurant was dim, but he thought she was wearing makeup. And her ponytail was a little higher, he thought, her hair a bit wavier. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you getting, Makoto?”

Though he’d been the one to insist she drop the “senpai,” it still sounded strange to his ears. Like she wasn’t finished with what she was saying. “Uh . . .” He’d forgotten to read the menu. She giggled as he quickly scanned his choices, then picked something at random. “The steak sounds good.”

He wasn’t a big fan of steak, but he ordered it anyway. The place was a little expensive, but Gou had her mother’s credit card and she’d _insisted_ Gou use it—especially if she took Makoto out to dinner.

“She mentioned me?” he asked, bewildered. He took a sip of water.

“Of course! She _adores_ you.”

Makoto nearly choked. Gou reached over the table to grab the glass from his hands, laughing as he took a gasping breath. He coughed and pounded his chest.

“Don’t act so surprised!” she said. “Mom’s practically adopted Haru-nii. You’re like another son-in-law.”

He laughed weakly. It was a relief that their food arrived at that moment, and he could talk instead about how that steak was _way_ too much for him. Though Gou’s slab of meat wasn’t much better, and she was already spearing it with her knife. He wondered idly if Rin had taught her how to use the western utensils. Makoto took his time to make sure he didn’t cut his hand off.

They talked of Haru and Rin first, of their local success and sponsorships, and how Rin finally came to accept that now was _not_ the time to marry. They laughed when they sighed in relief at the same time. Gou then spoke of the swim club—he always did like to hear how they were doing—and how she was ready to be done with high school.

But there was something strange about discussing matters at Iwatobi High. She talked of Miss Ama-chan, who was a figment of his past now. He even felt removed from the club, knowing it was his friends’ final year at school. There were new members, and soon they’d be passing the club down to people he didn’t know.

 _I wonder if Haru thinks about the Iwatobi club_ , he thought. Haru was part of a real team now, swimming in national meets and on his way toward his international debut. It was a long way from Iwatobi.

“Makoto!” Gou kicked him under the table. “Are you listening?”

“Y-Yes! Sorry!” He had no idea what she’d been talking about.

He’d missed the most important part of the conversation—she’d come to Tokyo not just to have dinner with him, but to also visit her chosen university.

“You . . . you’ve _chosen_?!”

“Keep up! It’s going to be _your_ job to make sure I’m safe!” She covered her mouth as she laughed. “Well, that’s what mom says.”

Her hotel was another twenty minutes out by subway, but he still took the trip with her. It was late—and dark—and even though she was probably _kidding_ about protecting her, he still didn’t want her roaming around an unknown city by herself. He pretended not to hover, but at least she didn’t fuss when he obviously was. It was nearly nine o’clock when they got to the hotel by the school, and he waited in the lobby as she checked in.

It wasn’t a fancy hotel, but it was clean. Makoto sat with the duffel on his lap. It was an old Samezuka swim bag, he realized now; she must have nabbed it from Rin’s high school things. The school logo decal was frayed at the edges, and the strap was worn where Rin used to sling it over his shoulder, but otherwise it was in pretty good shape—better than his Iwatobi one, anyway, which he still used. He wondered if it still smelled like the pool, but didn’t care enough to open Gou’s personal belongings in a hotel lobby. Or anywhere.

Gou returned, carrying a sheaf of check-in papers and her electronic room key. “You didn’t have to come with me,” she said, slinging the duffel over her shoulder, much like her brother had.

He smiled. “Your mom would never forgive me if I hadn’t.”

“Oh! I have to tell her I’m here.” As Gou dug out her phone Makoto stood, waiting until she sent off her confirmation text.

“Tell her thanks for dinner! It was really nice to—”

“Want to stay?”

Makoto stood open-mouthed, the rest of his thought lost. Gou casually slipped her phone into her pants pocket, then looked up at him. Waiting. Expecting an answer.

“I- I’m not sure . . .”

“The room has a really big bed!” she said, and already he was sweating.

_She expects us to share a bed?_

“And it’s really late,” she added, “and Mom said it would be okay if—”

“Your _mom_ suggested it?!”

He slouched, having piqued the attention of a couple standing at the front desk. He didn’t know where to look—not at them, and not at Gou . . .

“She tries to be tough, but I’m still her ‘little girl.’” She rolled her eyes. “If she didn’t have this big meeting today she would’ve come with me herself.”

There was no way to refuse a concerned mother. And despite Gou inheriting her “tough” genes, he could tell she didn’t really want to sleep alone. So he agreed, even though he had no other clothes to sleep in, but of course she _had_ seen him in nothing but a swimsuit countless times before . . .

He nodded, and she nearly bounced in her steps as they went to the second floor. Halfway up the stairs he realized he should’ve offered to carry the duffel, but his mind was consumed with more than chivalry. He hoped she wore modest sleepwear. And that the bed really _was_ big. And that he’d actually be able to sleep.

When Gou opened the hotel room door, he saw it wasn’t much bigger than his dorm—and housing a huge bed. _One down_ , he thought, mildly relieved. Gou insisted she stunk of travel and wanted a shower, though promised not to wash her hair in case she got the bed all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I shower at night, so I’m used to it.”

As she locked the bathroom door, and he listened to the spritz of the showerhead, panic set in further.

He couldn’t tell Haru he was there. Haru would tell Rin, and then Makoto would die an early death. He had to share his panic with _someone_. Definitely not Nagisa—then all of Iwatobi would know—and Rei wasn’t much better; he’s probably receive a lecture on safe intercourse practices.

With no other options, he texted his roommate. But just to say he wouldn’t be coming back to the room, not that Makoto thought he would worry.

Midorima called him right away. “Are you with the girl from home?”

“Not like _that_!” Makoto shrieked, trying to keep his voice down. “She’s in Tokyo by herself, and she’s a little nervous—”

“Are you protected?” he interrupted.

“Am I . . . ? No! I mean, I don’t need that!”

Midorima paused, and Makoto could picture the way he adjusted his glasses with his weirdly-taped fingers. “Don’t do anything stupid. Your swimming friend will murder you.”

Makoto didn’t have to ask to know he wasn’t speaking of Haru.

He kept himself occupied as she showered. He readied the bed, pulling down the comforter to see if there were multiple layers. He’d sleep with just the top blanket, and Gou beneath the sheet, in case they rolled into each other. He checked his email, though there was nothing there—not even from Rin, which he was partially relieved. He was the last person Makoto wanted to talk to right now. When Gou came back into the room she was already in pajamas—thankfully—which were pants and a matching shirt buttoned to the neck—thankfully. She’d unbound her hair, which spilled down her back and was fuzzy with the shower’s humidity.

“You can get comfortable,” she said, climbing into bed and facing the wall. “I won’t look.”

He laughed. “I don’t believe that, Gou.” He caught her smile before she pressed her face into the pillow.

Makoto removed only his shirt, but left his pants on. At least he wasn’t wearing jeans, but khakis weren’t too comfortable to sleep in, either. He lay on the edge of the bed, as far away from her as possible, and turned off the light. He feel the slight shift of the mattress under her weight. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was still facing the wall with her face partially pushed into the pillow.

“Thank you, Makoto,” she said, her voice slightly muffled.

He lay on his back. She was hugging her pillow now, and the blanket rose slightly when she breathed.

He reached over the vast expanse of the mattress to lightly stroke her hair. He was surprised how soft it felt, even if she claimed it was grungy and unwashed. “Of course, Gou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/94765216633) on tumblr.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 7 to 9.

Nothing had happened that night. But still, Makoto told no one. If asked, he’d admit to taking Gou to dinner—her mother _had_ insisted, after all—and traveling with her to the hotel to make sure she was safe.

Both of which were true, but he wasn’t ready to admit they’d shared a bed.

It had been innocent enough, with each of them remaining on their respective sides, and Gou hadn’t even tried to feel his muscles during the night. Maybe she had grown up a little, too, or maybe she’d felt as nervous as he had.

Still, when he returned to his dorm the following day, Midorima spun around in his chair and peered at him over the edge of his glasses.

“Nothing happened!” Makoto cried, as he closed the door.

“Hmph.” He turned back to the newspaper. “Disappointing.”

He’d told Gou that she could stop by the dorm if she had time later, but she had to get back to Iwatobi. He was slightly disappointed; having a familiar face in that foreign city had been nice. And she kept him up-to-date on everything Rin and Haru were doing. As much as Haru tried to keep in touch, Rin had always been better with communication.

But based on what he’d heard from Haru’s periodic updates, they were fine—Haru started to work at the swim club in Kyoto, and Makoto wished he could stop in to see how he handled the kids. He even agreed to move in with Rin, finally, and that was what settled Makoto’s nerves the most: knowing that Rin was with him, and that Haru wasn’t alone.

 _I’ll visit as soon as I can_ , Makoto wrote in an email, once Haru had shared the news. _I really miss you guys._

Gou wasn’t so subtle about her joy. “It’s about time!” she shrieked over the phone. “Those two are impossible.”

“They _are_ difficult sometimes,” he said with a chuckle.

 

* * *

 

Even with her teasing and empty threats of stopping by announced, it was . . . really comfortable talking to Gou. At first, they mostly spoke of Rin and Haru. It was what they had in common. But she started calling more often just to say hi, or to inquire over some obscure detail about Tokyo. She wanted to know what her future dorm room would look like—there were no pictures on the school’s website—so he went to the school to take pictures himself. And she reported back about Rei and Nagisa, too, who he didn’t talk to as often; she raved about Rei as captain of the swim club, and was excited that they already had six new members. “And when are _you_ coming home?” she asked, knowing that his summer break was soon upon them.

“I’m leaving next Friday,” he said, “but I’m stopping to see Haru and Rin first.”

“Make sure to stay out of trouble!”

It was bittersweet to leave Tokyo. He’d return soon enough come summer’s end, but as he watched the city fade away from the train, he already missed it. It had only been a few months, but he felt different. He felt like a _college student_ , and even more so when he thought about visiting his high school friends in their own city, where they’d built their own lives.

Kyoto Station was similar to Tokyo’s, in the fact it wasn’t merely a single platform like Iwatobi. Makoto was pleased with himself for easily navigating it, and especially when he finally spotted Rin and Haru in the waiting room. Makoto nearly ran over the girl in front of him to get to them, apologizing profusely as she hurried away. He sighed, but gripped his suitcase and continued to rush toward the warm, familiar faces in the crowd.

The first thing he noticed was their attire. They’d both obviously bought new clothes for the occasion, and Makoto wished he’d worn something besides an old polo shirt from high school. _His_ clothes, however, still fit; both Rin and Haru had grown more muscular, and he could see right away that their old clothes wouldn’t do.

“You guys look great!” he said, as they all exchanged hugs in the bustling station.

City life suited Rin—Makoto thought he could settle in anywhere—but Haru was surprisingly comfortable as well, navigating the streets and guiding them to his favorite food truck. Haru ordered the fish sandwich, proof enough that, despite everything, he was still Haru.

He texted Gou as they wandered the city, as Rin took the lead to the swim club. _I’m here_ , he wrote. _They’re doing great!_

She responded right away. _Tell them I say hi!!_

Rin prepared dinner that night, and they stayed up far too late catching up. Makoto was happy to let them do all the talking—Rin, mostly—because his mind kept wandering to Iwatobi, to how much his family at home must have changed in his absence, and to Gou.

It was impossible not to think of Rin’s sister as they all sat there, but it was overwhelming. Everything Rin did reminded him of Gou; they had similar mannerisms, and the same lift of their eyebrows when they got excited. It was a strange thing to pick up on, he thought, but paired with that excited hitch of their voices, and the way their similarly-shaded hair framed their faces . . .

He laughed at something Rin had said, trying to push down the memory of sharing a bed with his sister.

 _It was completely innocent!_ he thought, though knew Rin wouldn’t think the same.

As Rin and Haru went to practice the following day, Makoto toured Kyoto by himself. It was a smaller city than Tokyo and marginally less crowded, almost quaint. He found a spot beneath a sakura tree and stared at Gou’s name on his phone. They were friends; it wouldn’t be strange to call her, would it? Besides, he had a few hours to kill.

Gou picked up right away. She’d been _waiting_ for him to call, wanting to hear all about Rin’s and Haru’s place. He could hear the ocean in the background, and would swear he could _smell_ the memory of it. She said she was at the beach with some friends from school, but refused his offer that he call back later.

“They’re happy,” he said, watching people pass on the sidewalk. “Their names are on display at the swim club. They’re really doing it.”

Gou wanted to know exactly when he’d come home. She wanted to see him _all the time_ , insisting even that she meet him at the train station.

“I have to see my family sometime, too,” he said with a laugh.

“They can come! My mom will cook for everyone!”

He hadn’t noticed they’d been talking for an hour. He felt bad, since she was out with her friends, but no one had interrupted. No one had screamed her name in the background, trying to get her into the water. But she was still the one to initiate the end of the call.

“Chigusa will never forgive me if I don’t show her I can swim now,” Gou said. “I should go.”

“I’d like to see you swim, too,” he replied, realizing too late how strange that may have sounded. _Gou in a swimsuit . . ._ He covered with, “I could give you some tips!”

“I’d really like that, Makoto! Rei-kun is a good teacher, but he only knows theory.”

Makoto stared at the phone a long time when they hung up. It felt like lying to Rin somehow, getting in a phone call to his sister when he was busy at practice. _We’re friends_ , he reminded himself, rising from the bench. _It’s not weird to call one of your friends._

Deep inside, in a part of his brain that he was constantly trying to push back, he knew it was an excuse. He swallowed hard and headed for the swim club.

But when he saw the pool, his anxieties eased. He watched them in the pool, swimming alongside people who could actually keep up with them. He met their relay teammates, and did some swimming himself, and then took Rin and Haru out to dinner. Sweat beaded on his forehead whenever Rin mentioned his sister, making Makoto think he _knew_ , but then he was laughing as he threw his discarded clam shells on Haru’s plate again. Haru, in turn, stole a shrimp from Rin’s portion.

“Hey, Makoto,” Rin said, sitting back. “How about we go out tonight?”

Though he’d looked to Haru for confirmation, Makoto already decided he’d wanted to go. He wanted to see the famous club that Rin got Haru to go to, willingly, and more than once. He was slightly nervous that men would hit on him, and Rin assured him that they would, which didn’t help.

“You’re a good-looking man,” Rin said, and Makoto felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

But the club itself . . . was like any other bar he’d been to, besides the lack of women. He ordered a beer, and then he danced with Rin—and Rin could _dance_ —and even agreed to a round of karaoke. He could’ve done without the shirtless man hitting on him (he’d wanted to _join_ them? As in, all three of them?), but once they were out on the sidewalk again, Makoto couldn’t help but laugh over the situation himself.

In a few month’s time, Rin and Haru would be competing at the championships in Australia. They didn’t talk about it a lot during his visit; that time was intended for them, without the looming sense of obligations. It felt like they were in high school again, but different at the same time. Makoto never drank beer in high school, for one, and Haru had been adamantly against professional swimming, but as he packed to leave the following morning, he decided he liked the change. It meant their friendship transcended high school, that it could survive beyond Iwatobi. They both escorted Makoto to the train station, and he was glad to see that they hadn’t noticed the check he’d left them on the kitchen counter.

Of course, when he was settled on the train, he received a text from Haru saying he refused to cash it. _I’ll be offended if you don’t_ , he wrote back, as the train steadily moved toward Iwatobi. _It’s the least I can do_. _Good luck, not that you guys need it!_

He texted Gou soon after. _Be home in 4 hours._

 _Meet you at the station!_ she wrote back.

 

The moment he stepped off the train, Makoto noticed first how crisp and clean the air was. He breathed in deep, tasting the salt off the sea. The next thing he noticed was Gou running for him, and he braced himself at the last second as she tackled him with a hug.

“Tell me all about Kyoto!” she said.

They hadn’t seen each other since they’d shared a bed, he realized, and the memory of it came back like a wave crashing into him. She walked him home, which he said was unnecessary, but made no motion to request walking alone. He didn’t want to. Gou rolled his suitcase behind him— _that_ he’d tried to get back, but she refused—and she talked about the surprise trip she and her mom were planning to Australia.

“You’re going to surprise them in _Australia_?” Makoto cried.

“Isn’t it great?” Her ponytail bobbed behind her as she walked. “The swim club gave us a little money, too, from their fundraising.”

“Didn’t you give a lot of money to Rin and Haru, too?”

Gou nodded. “Nagisa keeps us busy with fundraisers.”

“I don’t want to know,” Makoto replied.

Though he hadn’t been home in nearly five months, he easily settled into old routines. The twins battled for his attention and followed him around as often as possible, but he didn’t complain. When they went to the beach, Gou often joined them. She wore a modest pink two-piece suit, constantly tugging on the bows at her hip when she thought he wasn’t looking. When they got into the water, he looked away after a wave crashed into them so she could adjust the top. It was cute, that pink bathing suit, even if she fidgeted and complained about it.

“Stop worrying,” Makoto said, as they swam out past the crashing waves. “You look cute.”

She wasn’t even embarrassed by the compliment, grinning as she lifted her head. “Thanks! I haven’t worn a bathing suit in years. Mom helped me pick it out.”

He smiled. “Your mom has good taste.”

As promised, he gave her pointers on her swimming. When they were in calmer waters, she showed off her front crawl. Makoto kept an eye on the twins, too, who were preoccupied building sandcastles near the water.

“It’s harder to swim in the ocean,” he said, when Gou took a break. “Rei did a good job teaching you.”

They kept drifting closer to shore and getting caught in the waves. The water was like ice, but they didn’t notice the cold until the waves crashed on their backs. Gou tensed each time a wave came through, and started clutching to Makoto’s arm when she saw one approach.

He thought to suggest swimming farther out again, but Gou _smiled_ as she was slammed with cold water, screeching as she desperately clung to him. And he could reach the sandy bottom as he stood, rooting them both as her body bobbed in the waves. Goose bumps tickled his arms. He looked down at Gou, who was eagerly looking behind her. Both her small hands grasped his biceps, her fingertips just touching on the underside of his arm.

“Gou,” he said, feeling the impression of those fingers, “I wanted . . . I mean, I thought . . .”

“Incoming!” she said, looking behind them, and grabbed around his waist instead as a wave crashed into their backs. He flushed, feeling her breasts press into his ribcage. She threw her head back and laughed. Her fringe was plastered to her forehead, and he pushed the wet hair from her eyes.

Her eyes were so big this close, with her arms around his waist, feeling the wake of her kick underwater. Another wave came through but she didn’t move, she didn’t react, simply staring up at him, holding on as he anchored her to land.

No, she didn’t look like Rin, like he previously thought. They shared similar features—they were obviously related—but Gou had her own beauty, one that was gentler than her brother’s. It was funny, describing Gou as “gentle.” She was nothing but; her personality overpowered Makoto’s. But her eyes were wide, her lashes long, her nose petite. It was like she’d swapped personalities with her brother—she looked more like the sensitive one; his appearance was better suited for barking orders.

“What were you saying?” she asked, but the moment had passed. He wasn’t exactly sure himself.

“Let’s get back to shore,” he said. “The twins have definitely been unsupervised too long.” He walked toward the beach, the waves helping to push them to shore. She still held to his waist, laughing, kicking her feet behind her.

The twins had mostly stayed out of trouble, but had built the sandcastle too close to the water. It was now soggy and partially demolished, though they kept on trying to rebuild it. Gou jumped into action. She got working on a moat around the castle, trapping some of the water, and helped them fortify the walls. Makoto watched, partially because he wanted to, but also because they wouldn’t let him help—Gou _insisted_ they were fine, that they didn’t _need_ help, and the twins echoed her cries of independence. Makoto settled back in the sand, digging a bottle of water from their beach bag.

“You’ll be the queen of our castle, right?” Ran asked.

Gou flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Of course. And Makoto will be my loyal servant.”

“Why not king?” Ren asked, and his big brother choked on his water.

“No kings!” Gou said, pointing toward the sky. “Only queens!”

Ran lifted both arms in the air. “Hooray!”

“What are my duties as servant?” Makoto asked warily, but Gou only grinned and turned her nose up at him.

The twins wanted ice cream before they went home. Gou paid, despite Makoto’s protests, knowing that they’d all be eating dinner soon.

“A little ice cream never hurt anyone,” she said, passing the popsicles down to the twins’ outstretched hands. She bought a second twin pop, cleanly breaking it in half. “You too, Makoto,” she said, handing it over.

He wasn’t one to deny ice cream himself.

Gou turned for home, waving over her shoulder as she sucked on her popsicle, and Makoto gathered the twins to head in the opposite direction.

“I like Gou-chan,” Ran said, striding down the sidewalk.

Ren nodded in agreement. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“N-No!” Makoto fumbled his popsicle, catching it before it hit the ground. The twins giggled as he wiped damp hands on his T-shirt. “We’re friends. She’s Rin-san’s little sister.”

“So?” Ran asked.

Makoto nudged them both to walk faster. He glanced over his shoulder, as if Gou would still be there, but of course she was on her way home.

_So?_

Makoto sighed, finishing off his popsicle and chewing on the stick. The twins exchanged a mischievous look and then burst into a sprint.

“Guys, don’t run with those sticks!”

 

* * *

 

But the truth was, he saw Gou a lot over break.

Gou would leave for Australia before he returned to school, so he felt obligated to spend as much time together as possible. He ate dinner at the Matsuoka residence a few times, and Gou’s mother joked that he’d seen the house more in a single week than Rin had in all his time at Samezuka.

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” Makoto said.

“You’re about even,” Gou replied. He couldn’t figure out if she was joking.

But while he was enjoying his summer break and spending time with his family (and increasingly more time with the Matsuokas), he kept in constant communication with Haru. It was impossible to fully relax when he knew Haru would be soon traveling overseas. He’d never even left Japan before. Gou had all the details—she knew where they’d be staying, and where the championship meet was. She’d already scheduled out their qualifying times and the races they’d swim in, if they made it (to which she had no doubt). They sat at the Matsuoka kitchen table as she showed him all the details, which she kept in an Iwatobi High School folder.

“You shouldn’t worry about them,” Gou said, tucking the paperwork back into her folder. “Haru-nii is with onii-chan! He’s been to Australia before.”

Makoto paused. “I know. Do you . . . think he’ll be okay?”

Gou straightened the already-straight papers inside the folder. She didn’t look up at him, staring instead at her flight confirmation, fingers lightly touching the barcode that would provide her with a boarding pass. He knew that she, too, had never been overseas. That it would be her first trip to the country her brother knew so well. “He’s with Haru-nii,” she finally said.

There were many things Makoto could say—how they supported each other. How they gave each other strength. But instead he put his arm around Gou, and it seemed she needed the physical comfort more than the words. She fell against him, leaning over the space between their chairs, and Makoto slid over for a better reach. It continued to surprise him how small she felt, how she could fall to his chest and get lost in his embrace. She felt warm, too, her cheek pressed to his heart, and her hair smelled distinctly fruity. Strawberry shampoo? He couldn’t figure it out, even as Gou scooted her chair even closer, but either way he kind of liked it.

She spoke his name quietly, a whisper that was muffled against his shirt. She lifted her head, propping her chin on his chest. “Remember when you stayed with me in Tokyo?”

His eyes widened slightly. They hadn’t discussed the night they’d shared a bed, but again, there was nothing to discuss.

Neither had he told anyone else about it.

“Y-Yes . . .” he replied.

He became hyperaware of her body then, and how it looked in her matching pajamas. How she’d slept curled up on the other side of the bed, but he could still feel her weight shift the mattress. He remembered her pink bikini. He was aware of his hand on her back then, and how close her face was to his pounding heart.

Her gaze wavered slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact.

There was one thing to say about the Matsuokas—they weren’t quiet, and especially when entering a room. Gou leaped back when the front door slammed, and in moments her mother strode in with an armload of groceries.

“Oh, Makoto!” She grinned over the brown paper bags. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

He jumped up from his chair. “Let me help you!”

She insisted that she was fine, even though one bag threatened to fall from the pile in her arms. He set that one on the counter, helping to unpack, feeling guilty and exposed with the imprint of her daughter’s face over his heart.

“It’s been so _long_ since I’ve traveled,” she said, unpacking a variety of snack foods and travel-sized toiletries. “This is going to be so much fun.” She turned to Makoto then, grasping him by his shoulders. He was amazed how he could be frozen to his spot and still sweating profusely. “Promise you won’t tell them! I really want this to be a surprise.”

“I won’t say anything!” he replied, quickly bowing, almost knocking foreheads.

When Gou walked him to the door later that night, he couldn’t bring himself to ask what she’d wanted to say. He didn’t know how to ask, and she didn’t look to be offering anything. _Remember when . . . ?_ Of course he remembered. He remembered how she’d thanked him, and then fell asleep first. He remembered feeling guilty as he watched her, wanting to make sure she was okay. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night, ignoring the deep-set disappointment that she hadn’t accidentally rolled to his side of the bed.

“Good night, Makoto!” she said, waving as he walked away from the house, and he waved back.

 

* * *

 

It was strange when they left for Australia. He had other friends in town, of course, and he was putting in a few hours a day at the swim club, but Iwatobi included Gou. He was used to Haru and Rin not being there now, as much as it pained him to think about it, but Gou was a constant. Like his family was a constant, like Nagisa and Rei. He wished he could’ve gone to Australia with everyone, too, but he was due back in Tokyo before they were all scheduled to return.

Besides, it wasn’t a cheap trip, and he’d just given all that money to Haru and Rin . . .

But watching the championship was just as fun. He invited Nagisa and Rei over, and the twins clambered all over them as they watched the races. The Japanese translator spoke over the English announcements, which was hard to follow sometimes, but they knew the rules. They heard the names they wanted to hear. And they could search for the familiar faces.

“Guys,” Makoto said, leaning over the twins in his lap. “See if you can spot them.”

“Haru-chan!” Ren cried, pointing at the TV. “There he is!”

Nagisa and Rei leaned closer, staring at Haru’s slim figure on the screen.

“There!” Rei shouted, just as excited as the twins. “It’s Rin-senpai!”

They weren’t sure _how_ Rei spotted him in the stands, but there he was—seated in the front row, watching the freestyle heats, almost completely leaned over the banister to watch.

“If we could only find Gou-chan,” Nagisa said, stroking his jaw. Makoto wouldn’t admit that he’d already been looking for her; he thought she’d be easy to spot, especially with her equally-excited mother, but they were lost in a faceless sea of spectators.

As they’d expected, both Rin and Haru qualified for their events, for both the individuals and the relay. It was exciting to see their names displayed in English up on the boards; it made it official. Makoto pointed out their names to the twins, who clapped when they recognized the English characters.

Makoto had read on the blog that Haru had “tripped” while running, and he was scraped up, but that he was fine enough to swim. He thought nothing of it, until he saw Haru in the flesh on television—he limped toward the pool for the four-hundred meter free heat, bearing an impressive bruise on his hip and a healing gash down his arm.

“That is _not_ fine!” Makoto cried, and the twins in his lap covered their ears.

When the heat began, Haru had a good start. He dived and came up with the rest of them, but he was struggling. Makoto chewed on his lower lip as everyone else still cheered for him, as the commentators on television were talking about how impressive Haruka Nanase was swimming despite his injury. Haru was on the last leg of the heat and, miraculously, still one of the forerunners. They all leaned forward when the race finished, sighing in relief that Haru was there, that he’d finished third. It wasn’t good enough to go onto the finals, but he’d finished. And finished _well_ , considering.

The camera zoomed in on him. Haru was panting, staring down at the water, and winced when he grasped the edge of the pool. Makoto wanted to look away. He didn’t want to watch; he couldn’t stand witnessing an all-to-familiar scene, one where a friend tried to pull out of the pool and collapses backward instead. One where he hides his hair over his face, his shoulders trembling, even more visible now with the media and the officials hovering around him.

“Haruka-senpai . . .” Rei choked back a sob.

Makoto quickly stood, toppling the twins from his lap, and paced the living room as he bit down on a knuckle. The announcer was still talking—something about Haru; Makoto couldn’t focus on the Japanese translation now—and then applause swelled from the audience, and he allowed himself to look. Haru was out of the pool, mercifully, and an official was talking to him, and then—

“Rin-chan!” Nagisa bounced where he sat, pointing madly to the television like they all weren’t already watching.

Rin was there.

 _“Here comes Rin Matsuoka!”_ the announcer said, as Rin was running toward Haru, ignoring the officials were calling out to him. _“What_ is _he doing?”_

Nagisa and Rei both lifted their arms in the air, their cheers in harmony, as Rin wrapped an arm around Haru’s waist. They were talking, though the mics didn’t pick up their conversation. It was intimate before the crowd, with Rin’s head lowered over Haru’s. Haru looked annoyed, twitching his injured shoulder as he frowned.

Rin pulled Haru’s arm up around his shoulders, testing the twisted ankle, and Haru nodded as he took one cautious step.

_“And that’s Rin Matsuoka, our silver-medalist in yesterday’s butterfly event.”_

_“And look at Haruka Nanase—not even in top form, and placing third in his heat. Here’s a guy we’ll be seeing again for sure.”_

Makoto sat back down in front of the television. “Haru . . .”

They all watched as they stopped walking. As Rin whispered to him, and Haru looked over his shoulder. Makoto could no longer hold back the tears—he cried as the camera panned over the spectators, who had all rose to a standing ovation. They hollered in support, in relief. Makoto felt Haru’s sense of wonder as he stared at them all. Rin had started crying, too, whispering to Haru again, as he took one step away. But his hand was still on Haru’s back, never releasing him, as Haru bowed low to the audience.

Rei and Nagisa leaped to their feet as well. Ren and Ran followed, jumping in place, their cheers rivaling the entire stadium in Australia. They watched Rin smile, and Haru put an arm around his shoulders again, and the cameras continued to focus on them until they’d disappeared into the back room.

“There’s Gou-chan!” Nagisa cried, pointing at the screen. Most of the audience had sat, but there was Gou—still on her feet, arms raised over her head, eyes shining with tears as she wildly clapped.

He texted Haru. Makoto wasn’t sure when he’d receive it—he thought maybe they were busy with interviews, or with their coach—but sent the message anyway: _Are you ok?? Are you hurt??_

It was a little while until Haru replied, long after his friends had left. _Rin says I need rest._

For the first time that day, Makoto smiled easily. Haru didn’t need his lecturing. He was sure Haru had heard enough from Rin, complaining that he’d tried to swim at all with his injuries. Still, Makoto texted Rin, too. _Make sure he rests!_

* * *

He had to return to Tokyo before Gou and her mother returned. He’d wanted to wait—he wanted to hear every last detail about their visit to Australia—but he was scheduled to be on a train before their trip was over, when they were still touring a country over the vast sea.

His family walked him to Iwatobi Station. He thought it would be easier to say goodbye this time, but he still found himself holding back tears. The twins were handling it better this time, knowing onii-chan could return home, but they still held on a long time as they hugged, even when the train had pulled up to the platform.

“I’ll be home in October,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It’ll be here before you know it!”

“If we see Gou-chan,” Ran said, “we’ll tell her you say hi.”

Makoto smiled, stepping backward toward the train as the last of the passengers embarked. “She’ll like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/95478579218) on tumblr.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapter 10.

The coming semester was a whirlwind—Makoto joined the swim team, so between practice and classes he didn’t have a lot of free time. But he loved to feel the water again. Tokyo wasn’t a small swim club by far, and many of its members were aiming to go pro. As a result, they kept up with their self-proclaimed competition rising from other clubs around Japan—including two who hailed from a small town in Tottori Prefecture whose name no one could remember.

The first time Makoto overhead Rin’s name in the locker room, he didn’t say anything about knowing them. He felt a little bad—this was definitely eavesdropping—but it was interesting to hear the guys talk about his friends from home.

“That Matsuoka is a beast,” someone said. Makoto hid behind his open locker door as he changed.

“No, but did you see Nanase? He doesn’t even _work out_ and he placed second.”

“The fuck? That’s impossible.”

It wasn’t entirely accurate. Haru had started to hit the gym, but Makoto decided not to correct them.

But it was natural for Makoto to make friends, and it wasn’t long until he was joining in on conversation and joking with the others at poolside. And when they learned he was from Iwatobi, it didn’t take long for his connection to Japan’s newest up-and-coming to be revealed.

“Hold up,” someone said, “you _know_ those guys?”

Makoto smiled as he towel-dried his hair. “We all grew up together.”

“No shit!”

They all talked about their mutual love for swimming, and Makoto would report back on what he’d seen on television of the national swim meets while they were all busy training.

“What were they like in high school?” someone once asked.

Makoto could only smile. “Amazing.”

Gou loved to hear about the locker room gossip. She threatened to come to Tokyo just to eavesdrop on them, despite Makoto insisting that he told her everything.

But between swim practice and homework, he was speaking with Gou a lot more. She said they’d had his family over for dinner, and their parents did nothing but talk about their beautiful, talented children all through dinner.

“They didn’t say that,” Makoto said.

“You don’t know my mom,” she replied.

He told her stories of the Tokyo Swim Club, and she filled him in on news from Iwatobi. They had a lot of new recruits, she said, and the club would be in good hands when she graduated.

“It’s a little strange,” she admitted. “They’ll be part of the club when I’m not here anymore.”

Makoto smiled, even if she couldn’t see it. “I know what you mean.”

He was making his own plans for the following year, too—he’d signed a lease on a house off-campus, splitting the rent with three other guys from school. Makoto was surprised that his roommate wanted to come with them, but Shintaro—they’d recently settled into a first-name basis—merely shrugged it off.

“We’ll have our own rooms,” his roommate had said. “It’s not the same.”

Still, Makoto was pleased that his roommate liked him enough to agree sharing the house—and even Shintaro’s quirks didn’t bother him as much as they once had.

Gou wasn’t as impressed when he told her. “He’s _weird_ ,” she said over the phone.

“He just takes some getting used to.”

“Well . . .” She sighed. “Make sure he keeps his _lucky items_ in his own room.”

His figurines and plush animals had sometimes found their way onto Makoto’s side of the room, but at least Shintaro didn’t comment when he silently moved them to his desk.

 

* * *

 

Makoto returned home for a long weekend in October, as promised, though his visit felt far too short. It was another tearful goodbye with his family, another brief visit with his remaining friends in Iwatobi, and then he was back at school. But it wasn’t long before autumn turned to winter, which turned to spring, which brought him home again having completed his first year of university.

But more than that, he returned to witness Iwatobi High’s graduation ceremony.

As he settled into his bedroom at home he caught the twinkling of lights at Haru’s house, and he smiled. He knew that Haru hadn’t been home since their own graduation, and Rin would be with him, so he resisted going up to say hello. But it was comfortable again, having them all in the same town, within walking distance. When his phone rang, he was expecting Rin but was surprised when Gou’s name appeared on his display.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing for the ceremony?” Makoto asked when he picked up.

He heard voices in the background, which faded out as she walked away from them. “This is so _boring_. I could do this in my sleep.”

He was about to reply when she shrieked, and there was a _clunk_ as the phone dropped, and then a new voice rang in his ear. “Rin-chan?!”

Makoto gently laughed. “Hello, Nagisa.”

“Mako-chan!” Makoto pulled the phone away from his ear as Nagisa screeched. “You’re home, right? You’re coming tomorrow?!”

He smiled. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Nagisa-kun!” Rei’s voice could be heard loud and clear in the background. “It’s not polite to take her phone like that!”

Nagisa’s laughter faded as, he assumed, Gou took back her phone.

She barraged him with instructions. Since Sousuke couldn’t make it home, it was up to Makoto to escort her mother to the ceremony. “Mom is really emotional,” Gou said, and he could almost _hear_ the way she rolled her eyes. “Bring tissues.” He agreed, even if it felt a little like standing in for her father. There would be food at their house afterward, and everyone would be there, and Makoto had to interrupt her unceasing flow of instructions to tell her to calm down.

“It’ll be fine,” Makoto said, looking up again at Haru’s house. The bedroom light flipped off. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worrying!” she barked.

But as expected, the ceremony went without a hitch. When he arrived at the Matsuoka’s house Gou had already left for school, but he walked with her mom to the ceremony. She complained that she _still_ hadn’t seen Rin, but Makoto assured her that he’d be at the ceremony, too.

“He better,” she said, as they approached the front gates of Iwatobi High. “Those two better do more than screw around in that empty house all weekend.”

Makoto nervously laughed, desperate for a change of topic. “Why don’t you want for them here, and I’ll find us seats?” To his relief, she agreed.

He hadn’t thought he’d get emotional. He sat in the bleachers, hoping they’d all come faster so he didn’t have to tell everyone who passed that these seats were being saved. Makoto watched the entrance, seeking out Matusoka-san’s familiar red hair, and the would-be Olympians who would follow. But he didn’t have to look hard, once they came onto the field—everyone else had noticed them, too, and people around him whispered as they pointed them out.

“Isn’t that Rin Matsuoka?” a girl in front of him asked, pushing her friend like it could get her a closer look. “It is! He is _so_ hot.”

“Oh my _God_.” The friend pushed her back, craning her neck to see over the gathering crowd. “Ooh, and Nanase-san is with him! He’s even more adorable in person.”

Makoto stood to wave them down. “Haru! Rin!” He could see the girls stare at him from the corner of his eye, and then they quickly turned and huddled together as the objects of their interest came up to the bleacher above them.

“Makoto!” Rin attacked him, hugging too hard, and Makoto struggled to stay upright as they laughed together. Rin pulled Haru into the group hug, joining without protest.

But Haru was the surprise, in his new T-shirt that swelled at the arms and chest, bulging with newly-defined muscles. Makoto held him by the shoulders. “Haru! You’re really muscular!”

Haru had been looking out to the empty graduation field, but didn’t turn to look at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’ve been training,” he said, and Makoto couldn’t resist hugging him again.

As the ceremony began, it didn’t take long to notice that the girls in front of them weren’t the only ones glancing in their direction. Rin’s mom was whispering to Rin and Haru; Haru slumped in his seat as Rin sat up straighter, and then he was waving to random people around them. Makoto smiled, trying to pay attention to the ceremony. But he’d sat through the same ceremony the year prior, and little had changed. He scanned the graduates seated in their rows, looking for familiar faces. He found Rei, sitting at attention as he listened to the speeches. He saw Nagisa, who kept on turning around to get Rei’s attention. He found Gou, whose perfect posture betrayed the bored look on her face. He smiled, watching her, catching the slight movement of her head as she looked over the audience. When her gaze swept over their section he waved, but she didn’t see him.

Makoto glanced at Rin, who was pointing something out to Haru. He was vaguely aware that they were internationally known now—and everyone in Iwatobi seemed to know them, too, judging by the surrounding attention—but he couldn’t see them as any more than his friends from high school, who would bicker over every little thing and steal kisses when they thought no one was looking. His gaze swept back to Gou, who’d noticed them now. She waved, and they all waved back, and her smile glowed.

After the ceremony and a round of photos, they all piled into the Matsuoka’s house. They ate dinner picnic-style in the backyard, and the new graduates bombarded their older friends with questions regarding life after high school. They took more and more photos, and Makoto eventually took Gou’s camera so she could appear in some shots as well. She plopped between Rin and Haru, throwing her arms around them, which made them both smile. Makoto was also sure to catch Rin’s unexpected tickling of his sister, which made half their party cover their ears with her shrieking protests.

“Rei-kun is coming to Tokyo, too,” Gou said, once she escaped from her brother. “You have to teach him all about the city, too.”

Rei sat up straighter. “Please, Makoto-senpai!”

“Of course,” he replied.

Makoto stayed after to help clean up, even though Gou and her mother insisted that he didn’t have to. Nagisa and Rei went home to their own families, and Rin and Haru bid them all goodnight before escaping to Haru’s house. The remaining Matsuokas knew it was futile to stop Makoto from gather plates and helping to fold the bed sheet they’d used as a picnic blanket.

“I’m going to bed early,” Matusoka-san said with an exaggerated yawn, lazily waving over her shoulder as she head for the house. “You two can take care of the rest, right?”

There wasn’t much left, after the dishes had been scraped and piled in the dishwasher, and then Gou crashed to the living room floor with her arms spread out. Makoto sat beside her.

“I’ll be so glad to never wear this uniform again,” she said, tugging on the bow at her throat.

“Let me,” Makoto said, gently untying the knot.

He was aware of her staring up at him, and the warmth of her skin as he pulled the ribbon away; he was surprised to learn that it wasn’t too dissimilar to the tie he’d worn all those years himself. Now he wore a simple polo shirt open at the throat, but it felt like he, too, was buttoned up, with an Iwatobi-regulation tie knotted around his neck. Gou smiled in her thanks, then unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

“Let’s go outside,” Makoto said, his cheeks blazing red. “It’s a little warm in here.”

Gou sat up, tugging on the hem of Makoto’s shirt when he went to stand. He fell back to the floor, sitting too close, and then Gou wrapped her arms around his waist to hug him.

“Gou . . . ?”

She tucked her head in the space beneath his chin and when Makoto lowered his head, he smelled her strawberry shampoo. Her hair was soft, he remembered now, as he set his cheek atop her head, remembering how he’d threaded it through his fingers in the hotel room. Makoto closed his eyes as Gou pressed closer. He almost forgot sometimes how petit she was—she had such a large presence, and he’d spent so long listening to her barking orders, that it surprised him how easily she got lost in his arm when they hugged. He held around her tighter, as if shielding her; she curled her legs beneath her, nuzzling his neck and breathing hot on his skin.

“Is everything all right?” he whispered.

Her chin bumped his clavicle when she nodded. “I’m not in high school anymore,” she said, playing at the hem of his sleeve. “Is it a lot different?”

He smiled, breathing in her strawberry-scented hair. “It is,” he admitted. “But it’s exciting. And I’ll be there.”

She nodded again, and he froze when he thought her lips fluttered on his throat. But it was so slight, and so quick, that he couldn’t tell. His heart pumped furiously, his hands shaking slightly as he sat her up to look at her face.

If there was any trace of nervousness in her expression, it was gone now. He pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. The sun had set, and they hadn’t put a light on the living room, but from this close her eyes still flamed like fire. “But you’ll be fine!”

He didn’t have a moment to brace himself before she shoved his shoulder, and he fell backward on his hands. She straddled his thigh to keep him down, poking a finger into his chest. “Of course I’ll be fine!”

He tried scooting back but she followed, still sitting on him, and he couldn’t escape the persistent prodding or the death glare. “I-I know that!” His chest hurt when she poked him again, though it wasn’t as forceful as the first.

She huffed a wayward strand of hair from her face and then pulled him up, best she could. He’d never admit to sitting up himself as her arms went around his waist again, and then hugged him, plopping between his legs so she could rest her head on his chest. He wondered what his heart sounded like, with her ear pressed to his shirt. He wondered if she felt the pounding like he did, pulsing in his ears. Gou ran her hands up his back, then back down, and a shiver followed the slow movement.

“Gou?” he whispered, but didn’t expect a response. He felt the slight rise and fall of her breathing, her breasts grazing his shirt with each inhale. She gripped one of the arms that lay across her shoulders, and it wasn’t until he stopped shaking that he realized he’d been shaking at all.

The floor above creaked with her mother’s footsteps, moving from room to room. Makoto listened for her coming down the stairs but they retreated again, and then went silent. Gou breathed in deep, and Makoto closed his eyes when her breasts flattened against his chest.

“I like that you’ll be there,” Gou said, her cheek still pressed to his heart.

Makoto willed his hand to steady as he stroked her hair, hoping he could see her face if he pushed it back a little. But she’d lowered her head just enough that he couldn’t see past her fringe. He hugged her instead. “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

When Gou arrived in Tokyo, it didn’t take long for Makoto’s housemates to think they were dating.

He’d almost convinced two of them that they weren’t, but Shintaro was unconvinced. “She’s your friend’s sister,” he said, not unlike a question, his eyebrows raised over the frames of his glasses.

“I’m helping her in the city!” Makoto cried, a blatant lie that his housemates ignored.

But Gou was fine in the city on her own. It took only a month for her to show _him_ around, leading him to the best dumplings joints and the bars that looked seedy from the outside, but were okay within. He didn’t want to know about her going to bars—that was one fact he couldn’t hide from Rin if he’d asked—but she assured him that she wasn’t stupid, and never went alone.

“I never said you were stupid . . .” he’d say, as she seized his wrist and pulled him inside.

Gou was cute. He’d realized that years ago, but once they were in the bars it became wildly apparent. College boys would eye her up but she’d turn away, blatantly ignoring them. Once, Makoto was ordering their drinks and didn’t see the reason a guy fell into him, a fresh welt from Gou’s fist on his face. Her victim flung obscenities at her as he massaged his cheek, and Makoto stepped away without helping him to get up. “You really shouldn’t talk to a girl like—”

Gou kicked the guy in the shin. “I did _not_ give you permission to touch me!” She straightened her skirt, tugging it back down to where it had been when they’d arrived.

“Here’s your beer,” Makoto said carefully, and foam splashed onto her victim when she grabbed it from the bar.

 

Makoto enjoyed having his own room at the house. He enjoyed even more that Shintaro kept his lucky items in his own room, and they didn’t spill into the hallway as often as he would’ve thought. They were the only two on the third floor, so it was quiet. And it was convenient when Gou would stay the night, after she’d been over too late to bother going back to her dormitory.

She had a habit of surprising him at swim practice. Gou’s schedule was packed with classes and volunteer work, and she was trying to get involved with helping the swim team as well (it was good experience, she’d say, for her future career), but she’d take the twenty-minute trip across Tokyo to watch Makoto’s practice.

The natatorium was surprisingly empty during practices. So it was easy to spot her when she walked in, no-nonsense like she’d always belonged there. Makoto waited for her to spot him before he waved.

“Your girlfriend?” someone nearby asked, as they waited their turn for a lane.

Makoto smiled as he shook his head. “A friend from high school. She’s Rin Matsuoka’s sister.”

His teammate squinted, staring at her, and then nodded. “Yeah, I can tell.”

Makoto felt her unwavering gaze on him as he mounted the starting block, and as he dived for his freestyle practice. There were moments that his freestyle still felt shaky, but it felt comfortable that night. And always, he thought of Haru. Someone in the lane beside him was passing him, though not as quickly as Haru would. Makoto was persistent in keeping up with Rin’s and Haru’s records. They were consistently faster than most of his teammates, and got faster every time he checked the race results. Haru still spoke of the Olympics like it was a mere possibility, but Makoto knew. They’d be there. The thought alone made him swim faster, like he’d be competing with them as well.

He gasped as he finished one hundred meters, and his coach praised his new personal best. Someone clapped from the bleachers, and Makoto didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

He looked anyway. Gou was bouncing on her toes in the front row, smiling broadly.

The Tokyo championship meet was coming up soon, and though Makoto wasn’t swimming in it he still couldn’t wait. Because Haru and Rin would be in Tokyo, and they would stay with him in lieu of a hotel. When he met up with Gou after practice, it was all she could talk about.

“I haven’t seen my brother since _graduation_ ,” she said, as Makoto opened the door to a restaurant for her.

“It’ll be nice to see them again,” Makoto replied.

The restaurant was his pick this time, and Gou’s eyes widened when they were seated at a table. It seemed the place Rin would want to take Haru, and Haru would find too gaudy. It served Italian food, and was decorated in red and gold. Even the silverware was gold, to match the décor, and there were no chopsticks. He had a little experience with a fork, but not enough to attempt twirling spaghetti on it.

“This is almost _romantic_ ,” Gou said, leaning over the table after they ordered.

Makoto flushed. “I heard they have good steak! And I’m hungry after practice!”

Gou sat back with a self-satisfied smirk, twirling the straw in her water glass. “Do you remember when you stayed with me at the hotel?”

How could he forget? He sweated at the thought of it, and sweated more when he remembered how many times he’d concealed the memory from her brother. He nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

Her smile softened and she looked away, almost embarrassed. She may have blushed, but the lighting was too dim to be sure. “That was nice.”

“E-Eh?”

Gou folded her arms on the table, leaning over slightly as she lifted her face to him. It was a small table, small enough that Makoto could lean closer and kiss her if he wanted. But even the idea of that sent his hair standing on end. She tilted her head, then slowly tilted it the other way, never breaking eye contact. Makoto was glad he didn’t wear anything fancier than a T-shirt, because he already felt the tightness around his throat.

Their waitress came then, setting a bowl of spaghetti before Gou and a steak before him. Gou thanked her, because Makoto had lost all his ability to speak. He clumsily picked up his knife, dropped it, and then gripped it awkwardly in his fist. The knife was too unnatural in his hand, and he was hyperaware of Gou watching as he tried to cut his steak.

She fell silently, twirling her spaghetti like it was second-nature. Maybe Rin had taught her how to use it. Maybe it was an inherent Matsuoka trait to be good at everything they tried.

“It’s getting late,” Makoto managed to say after swallowing. Gou’s head shot up. “You can stay over, if you’d like.”

 

She didn’t have a change of clothes. He managed to find the irony amusing, seeing he was the one with pajamas this time. She borrowed one of his T-shirts, which fell to her thighs when she slipped it on. He offered a pair of shorts, too, but they fell off even when she knotted them tight. It was easier to go without, she claimed.

Makoto’s room was small, and his single bed flush against the wall. He spent far too long getting ready for bed; he was slow brushing his teeth, and then couldn’t decide what to wear to bed. They were just a bunch of old T-shirts, but some had holes on the seams. When Gou took her turn in the bathroom, he madly rummaged through the drawer for something decent to wear. _He_ had to wear shorts, even if she wouldn’t, and that was another five minutes of indecisiveness before he pulled something on at random. Gou strode through the door as he tied the knot at his waist.

She got into bed first, which he was grateful for; her bare legs were hidden under the blanket, and it meant there was no chance she’d fall out of bed, either. The bed was narrow for only him, so adding another person—no mater how small—would be a tight fit.

Not that he’d thought about that before.

Not that he’d pictured Gou curled against his side as she slept.

Or lying half on him to conserve space in the small bed.

Or mindlessly tracing the muscles of his chest.

When he turned toward the bed, she quickly looked away. She’d been watching.

“I could sleep on the floor,” Gou said, even as Makoto lay beside her.

He shook his head. “I’d probably step on you when I wake up.” That made her smile, at least, as she lay down and wiggled beneath the covers.

It _was_ a tight fit. It was tighter than he’d imagined, and they couldn’t lie side by side. Makoto wiggled an arm beneath her and she inched closer, his arm supporting the curve of her neck. She’d already abandoned her pillow for his chest, nuzzling to his pecs as she draped an arm across his stomach.

… It was more comfortable than he’d even imagined.

One of Gou’s bare legs draped around his, smooth against his calf as she wiggled to get comfortable. He didn’t often see her without a ponytail, but now her hair spilled over them both, tickling the underside of his arm.

“Are you comfortable?” Makoto asked, praying that she was.

She took so long to reply that he thought she’d already fallen asleep. But then she moved a hand to his chest, and thought he was wearing a T-shirt she knew every groove of his muscles, likely having memorized the planes of his skin so long ago.

“Yes,” she replied. And though they’d found a comfortable position, and he’d falling into a heavy half-sleep, Gou inched upward to see his face.

He mechanically swept the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She did the same to him, pushing his fringe back from his forehead, smiling when she could see the full of his expression.

His heart hitched when she looked at his lips. He resisting licking them; it always made them chapped, and then he’d start to chew on them, and he tried not to think about how that might matter. His blood pulsed in his groin as her hand slid up to his face, then traced the line of his lips.

Makoto wanted to say something. _Anything_. He wanted to fill the silence between them, but it was filled with Gou’s touches, the brush of her fingertips on his lips, and his chin, and his cheek. She traced around his hairline, then down along his ear, and then the whole of her small hand warmed his jaw. When he placed his own hand over it, hers was completely concealed.

Makoto couldn’t move. Even when Gou tilted her face closer, then paused, breathing hot on his mouth. It smelled a little like tomato sauce, which he tried to ignore. Her eyes drifted up to meet his again and when he smiled, she leaned in to kiss his lips.

He'd never kissed someone before. He hadn’t expected it to feel so soft, or so warm. Her lips barely brushed his at first but then she pressed down harder, but not forceful. It was just like Gou—to be hard and gentle all at once, to keep her mouth closed as they kissed because she knew how nervous he would be.

But Makoto was the one to part his lips first, and she felt it at once, breathing into each other as they kissed. His arms doubled around her waist, and her fingers threaded through his hair, and it was her tongue that slipped into his mouth, his open invitation. The taste of her filled him, clumsily at first—their front teeth clicked together, and the angle of their heads was off, leaving Makoto licking Gou’s lips even as they kissed. But he tilted his head farther, locking their mouths together. He felt the warm mist of Gou’s breath through her nose, and the slight vibration of her silent groaning.

He lost track of how long they’d kissed that night. All he could remember when they finally went to sleep was looking at the clock and being surprised over how late it was. It felt like the kiss lasted mere moments, but it had been hours. Hours of Gou’s body pressed to his, of her hands roaming his muscles. Hours of repositioning his hands so he didn’t touch her rear, resisting to slip his hands up her shirt— _his_ shirt—and pull it over her head. He’d learned quickly enough that she didn’t wear a bra, and knew he’d never look at that shirt the same way again. That he couldn’t look at that bed, or that room, or even that city—or at _her_ —the same way again.

 _Rin is going to kill me_ , he thought, rubbing her back as he stared at the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I ever told you how much I enjoy writing first kisses?
> 
> (Chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/97819967908) on tumblr.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 10 to 12.

Gou _loved_ living in Tokyo.

She’d never admit to wanting to get out of Iwatobi, and still questioned whether it was right after she’d made her decision. Truthfully, part of the draw was knowing there would be a familiar face, even if Makoto was a twenty-minute train ride from her dorm. She’d looked at schools in Kyoto, too; while it would’ve been nice to be near Rin and Haru, the schools’ sports therapy programs weren’t as good. Besides, those two were bouncing all over Japan—and the _world_ —that it would mean little even if they’d lived in the same building.

But after Gou had settled down and figured out the area, living in the city wasn’t as scary as she’d thought. And she’d spent so much time following Makoto around in the beginning that she knew the way to his house, too, without having to consult his written directions.

 _Makoto_. Stupid, oblivious Makoto.

It wasn’t unusual for them to go a few days without speaking. It wasn’t like she had to talk to him _every_ day, even if he felt obligated to check up on her. She wondered sometimes if that was Rin’s doing, or even her mother’s, but no, that was all Makoto. She’d developed a “little sister” role in the swim club in high school, the token female the others thought they had to protect. Perhaps that was also her reason for wanting to venture to the city, a way to prove that she didn’t need protection. But Makoto had been there from the first time she’d traveled alone, and she found that she hadn’t minded. She’d slept peacefully when he’d been at the hotel; in the morning, she’d smiled to feel his body heat under the blanket.

But he hadn’t _done_ anything after that. They’d gone out a few times, as _friends_ , and she’d attend his swim practices whenever possible . . . but never did he step over the friendship line, and he was always the one to back away from their hugs first.

So she’d taken matters into her own hands.

Gou was seated in the cafeteria over a bowl of cold noodles, but her cheeks were aflame. She took a sip of water and felt his warmth all over again—her chest flattened to his hard pecs, his lips so warm against hers. Even in high school she’d admired him, intently watching him in the pool or just walking around in his swimsuit. His quads flexed as he swam, and his triceps trembled when he’d pull himself out of the water. When he’d cross his arms, it would accentuate his biceps more. He’d hold his head high as he took charge of the club, his shoulders wide and his perfectly-sculpted back shifting as he moved around helping the others.

Gou lay her cheek on the cool, plastic tabletop. Makoto was so beautiful, and he was so dumb.

And her hands had felt those pecs, and his biceps, and his deltoids . . .

Her phone buzzed, and she quickly pulled it from her pocket. It was Makoto calling—not texting—and she took a deep breath before answering.

“Gou!” She hardly had a chance to say hello before he was talking. “Oh, this isn’t good.”

She sat up straight, adjusting her crooked ponytail one-handed. “What’s going on?”

He was upset from something he’d seen online. Some sports blogger talking about her brother, focusing only on his high school failures. Gou nearly snapped the wooden chopsticks in her hand as Makoto read excerpts.

“Does big brother know?” she asked.

“I— I called them,” he replied. “I didn’t know if they’d seen, and I didn’t want to hide it, but Rin . . .” He trailed off.

“Didn’t take it well,” she finished.

“Umm . . . yeah.”

Gou sighed. She wished she had her laptop with her then to read the post, but knew it would only make her more angry. It wasn’t the first time a blogger had said something negative about them, but to talk about that race at regionals was a low blow.

“Big brother was _captain_ third year,” she said, as if Makoto didn’t know. “He built up that team and he’s _amazing_.”

“I know,” Makoto said, trying to pacify her.

It didn’t work. “Grr. I hate this! He must be _livid_.”

“He was pretty angry,” Makoto confirmed.

“I’m coming over,” she said, hanging up before he had a chance to reply.

Gou had an afternoon class, but wasn’t in the mood now to sit through a lecture. She shoveled the rest of her noodles and grabbed her book bag, not even bothering to stop by the dorm to switch it for a purse. The dorm girls would have _questions_ , and she didn’t want to explain her sudden need to be at Makoto’s house—not when they already knew how many nights she didn’t return to the dorm.

Twenty minutes was too long to sit on a train and brood, but at least she had her phone. The screen was too small to read a full-length blog post—thankfully, she thought, wanting to conserve her anger for when she was _not_ in public—so Gou passed the time by checking the rankings, again, despite there being no change since the day before. Haru and her brother were still in the national top ten, and she glared at the names wedged between them on the list. It was _wrong_ that their names weren’t right beside each other, switching back and forth for the top two spots.

She’d turned her new dorm friends into swimming fans too, unsurprisingly, especially when they learned her brother was among them. Rin wasn’t hard to spot on television—not only was his resemblance to his sister striking, he also ate up the public attention. Rin always waved and smiled as he approached the pool for a race, which sent Gou’s new friends swooning.

“Tell me he’s single,” her roommate had said, as the camera panned over his swimmer’s body.

“He’s engaged,” Gou had boasted, and the group collectively groaned. “There’s his fiancé!” The frame had shifted to Haru, who sat beside their coach. Coach gently elbowed Haru and he looked up, startled in the face of the camera. He offered a small wave.

“The cute one are always gay,” someone else said, hugging her knees as they watched.

Now, Gou fidgeted to get off the train, that stupid blog entry at the forefront of her mind again when she pulled into Makoto’s stop. She pushed through pedestrian traffic to get to the main road, then expertly navigated the streets to his front door.

Midorima answered her pounding right away. “Makoto’s friend,” he said, as way of greeting.

“My _name_ is _Gou_.” She would’ve liked to sidestep around him, but the doorway was narrow and his bulk filled the entire frame. He was tall, taller than Makoto, and Gou frowned as she tilted her head back to look at him. “Is he _here_?”

Midorima was unfazed, nodding as he stepped aside. “In his room.”

She tripped over a bronze cat statue when she jogged up to the third-floor landing, kicking it toward Midorima’s room before turning to Makoto’s open door.

He was sitting at his desk and didn’t notice her at first—even though her footsteps had been loud and heavy on the way up—and she paused in the doorway, staring at his back. He was wearing a muscle shirt; she wondered when he’d started wearing _those_. She could see most of his trapezius, and his deltoids looked really good . . .

“Makoto!”

He was unsurprised by her outburst, or even that she was there. Gou flopped to the bed, swinging her feet and watching as he turned around in his chair. She _tried_ not to stare at his open legs as he straddled the backrest, but the room was _really_ narrow and his chair was really close to the bed.

“I hope Rin is okay,” Makoto said.

“Let me see it,” she replied, and Makoto passed over the laptop.

The blog entry wasn’t terrible, but she knew her brother—it would be the end of the world. She repositioned to lie on her stomach across Makoto’s bed as she scrolled through it. _Matsuoka had a shaky start. You wouldn’t give him a second glance_ . . . _Is Matsuoka’s strength all his own, or does Nanase continue to be his driving force?_

 _“Oh.”_ Gou twirled the end of her ponytail around her finger.

“They’ll be here for the championship in a few weeks,” Makoto said, resting his arms on the chair’s backrest. “I just hope they’ll be okay.”

She closed the laptop’s lid and sat up, handing it back across the narrow divide. “They better be.”

She looked around the room. She became over-conscious of sitting on the bed, where the last time they’d seen each other they’d been making out. For hours.

They’d been talking casually, like they always had, but suddenly both looked away. Makoto stared at the laptop she’d just returned, like her hands were still upon it, and Gou studied the stitching of his blanket.

She vaguely wondered where the T-shirt was that she’d slept in. Was it haphazardly tossed into his laundry bin, or had he folded it back into a drawer without washing it? Did it smell like her, and did he think of her whenever he wore it?

Gou remembered how Chigusa would tease her in high school about not having a boyfriend. _You’re always around all these hot boys_ , she used to say, _and you’re not dating any of them?_ Gou had been more focused on the swim team’s success and her brother’s happiness at the time. Muscles were distracting enough to admire—like she could’ve concentrated on anything if there were muscles she was permitted to touch, if there had been a boy who _let_ her touch them?

She stared at the floor, but was distracted now by Makoto’s skin. He’d always had the best muscles on the Iwatobi team, of course. She stared at his bulging calf, nicely toned after years of running and training. His thighs were nice, too, and she’d never forget the way they fit perfectly into his legskins.

He wasn’t saying anything. He was supposed to say something and distract her from his body. But he still wasn’t looking at her; he stared out the window, though there was nothing but blue skies and clouds.

“Rin and Haru will be staying here for the championship.” Gou couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned it before, but at least he was finally looking at her again. “And I’ve talked with Rei to see if he can come. But you know how busy he is.”

She was relieved to have something to talk about. “Good luck pulling him away from his studies,” she said. They’d seen him a few times since graduation, but not nearly as often as they would’ve liked. Makoto laughed. “But isn’t it late to get tickets?”

“Don’t worry.” He smiled easily. “I’ll get some from the guys on the team. But I don’t know if Rei can make it, so it’ll be a surprise for Haru and Rin.” They hadn’t discussed the kiss, but at least they were talking about _something_.

But over the next few weeks, it wasn’t enough. Gou attended his practices as usual, and they’d go out to dinner after, and she burned with the need to ask what the heck was going on. Because she _liked_ him, she knew now—yes, he had great muscles, but there was more to Makoto. It had always been Makoto, she realized, as she’d travel back to her dorm after they’d been hanging out. He’d always been the one to look over his shoulder at her after swim practice, or ask how she was doing when she seemed down. She’d fall asleep hugging her pillow, which was a poor substitute for his warm, comfortable body. Her skin prickled when she lay on her stomach, remembering how he felt beneath her.

 _That’s it_ , she thought, pulling the blanket over her head. _As soon as everyone leaves after the championship, I’m asking him out._

 

* * *

 

She couldn’t get to Makoto’s house on Rin and Haru’s first night in Tokyo, but nearly ran down the sidewalk with her suitcase when it came into view the following night. The front door was unlocked and she burst inside, bombarding her brother with hugs and sending them crashing back to the floor. Haru was already sitting on the ground and she hugged him, too, kissing his cheek before claiming a seat around the table.

Gou couldn’t sit still. She absorbed every word of Rin’s updates, even though she already knew everything through his constant emails. Makoto had managed to get them tickets for qualifying, too, and Gou had to know every little detail about each of their competitors.

“I don’t know!” Rin cried. “Jeez. I’m going to shower.” When he stood he kissed both Gou and Haru on the tops of their heads, then paused before kissing Makoto as well. She giggled, Makoto smoothing down his hair as Haru shooed him away.

“Don’t forget,” Rin said, pointing an accusing finger at Haru before bounding up the stairs.

“Huh?” Gou sat up straighter. “What is he talking about?”

Haru shrugged. “He’s being annoying.”

But as they talked, Haru kept on glancing between her and Makoto. She wondered if he could tell. She wondered if he understood the burning inside her, the need to reach across the table and hold Makoto’s hand. Rin and Haru had probably toured Makoto’s house the previous day, and she warmed to think they’d seen the bed where she’d slept beside him. She couldn’t prevent the smile from stretching across her face.

But Haru was smiling, too, and she reached across the table to grasp his hands. He didn’t resist, and she tried not to think about how easily she could just hold Haru’s hands when she couldn’t do the same for the other boy at the table. “What are you smiling about, Haru nii-san? Are you nervous?”

He shook his head, but of course Haru wasn’t nervous. They’d been in so many races before, each one counting down to their Olympic debut. It was so unreal to be sitting there with him, the one who hadn’t even been sure he _wanted_ this life in high school, now helping push her brother to achieve both their dreams. Haru squeezed her hands before releasing them. When she sat back, looking over to smile at Makoto, he was already smiling at her, too.

“Are you dating?” Haru suddenly asked.

The question broke the easy air of the room and suddenly it made sense why her stupid brother had already left, so Haru could ask his stupid questions.

“H-Haru!” Makoto sputtered. “We’re not—!”

“Idiot!” Gou leaned over to smack his arm. Hard. “You’d know if I started dating _anyone_!”

“I would?” Haru asked, rubbing his arm.

It was neither her confirmation nor denial, and she glanced at Makoto to see if he’d noticed. But he was already covering his tracks, telling Haru about how he’d shown her around Tokyo and that was _all_ , he added, unconvincingly. Haru suddenly rose, claiming to need the bathroom, and climbed up the stairs to leave them alone, again.

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief.

Gou found it terribly annoying. _“What?”_

“H-Huh?” He glanced toward the stairs, though Haru was long gone. “What is it?”

“You know what I’m talking about!”

Makoto suddenly found his fingernails fascinating, staring at them intently in the new silence of the room. Gou huffed her fringe from her forehead and looked up at the ceiling. Rin was in the shower, and she wasn’t at all convinced that Haru needed the toilet. Gou didn’t want to think about them naked together two floors up from where they were sitting.

“Never mind,” she said irritably, hastily rising like she had somewhere to go. But as she turned for the door—not that she would’ve _left_ ; it would be too much trouble to explain _why_ to her brother—Makoto’s sigh made her stop cold.

“Gou, I’m really sorry.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Makoto was still looking toward the stairs, like Rin or Haru would appear at any moment—not that either would, with Haru’s extended “bathroom break.” Gou wished she’d worn jeans instead of a stupid skirt; she wanted to shove her fists into her pockets, but they hung at her sides in full-view instead.

But when Makoto finally turned to her, Gou’s pounding heart settled to a quasi-normal beat. He was _scared_ , of course; she saw it now. Trapped between what was familiar and whatever unnamed thing had passed between them, a dormant desire overlooked in years past. Gou flopped to the table again and reached for his hands. Both her hands covered one of his, and she _liked_ how giant he was compared to her. She’d proven her strength time and time again, but it _was_ nice how comfortably she’d fit in his arms . . .

Gou glanced at the stairs now, too, overconscious of every creak of the house, waiting for the descending footsteps. Hoping they’d come as she was ready to speak, waiting for something to cut her off, but no one was coming.

Still, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I really like you.”

Makoto covered his free hand over both hers to trap them inside. His thumb rubbed her wrist and it sent a shockwave up her arm, crawling up the back of her neck. He glanced at the stairs one more time—as if he, too, hoped someone would interrupt—then leaned closer to her.

She wanted so badly to kiss him, to feel his lips again and get lost in the way he felt. He kissed her cheek instead, lips lingering and his breath warm. “I like you, too.”

His shoulder was so close, and she knew how cozy it was on her cheek, but Haru had taken that moment to come back downstairs. Her cheeks flushed as she sat up quickly, and Makoto was still looking at her when Haru came back into the living room—mostly dry, she saw, besides the two damp splotches on his shoulders.

She stared at what she assumed was her brother’s handprints, more to avoid Makoto’s expression that was turned toward her: that unabashed fondness, those eyes that held back nothing. Haru paused before sitting and she knew that he’d seen it, too, before Makoto turned to him, and she didn’t care.

_I like you, too._

The words echoed all night, in her mind and over the walls of the house, after they’d all prepared for sleep and argued over where they’d spend the night. Big brother was being stupid again, talking about how she should stay by herself in Midorima’s empty room while the boys crowded in Makoto’s. She knew that Rin would never go for her sleeping on Makoto’s floor—and it _would_ be his floor with Rin in the house, though she knew better than to include that detail—but was still disappointed when he refused the suggestion. She pouted, but it meant she’d room with her brother, and that was fine, too. But she claimed Midorima’s bed before he could, for no other reason than to be difficult and make Rin sleep on the floor.

But sharing a room with her big brother was fun, even if he kept on whining that he had to sleep. Between Rin’s “I really have to sleep” declarations, he asked about Tokyo and how her classes were going. Gou told him how all the girls in her dorm were now big fans of the famous Rin Matsuoka. He loved hearing about his college-girl fans, wanting to hear all the details.

But mostly, he talked about Haru.

“I don’t know how he puts up with me,” Rin admitted, lying back on the floor. He propped his head on his hands. “I’m a real asshole sometimes.”

Gou sighed. “Big brother . . .”

“Not on purpose!” he barked. He shifted in his futon, and for a moment she felt bad for making him sleep on the hardwood floor when he had qualifying the following morning.

“I read the blog entry,” she said carefully.

Rin grunted. “Figured you would. Bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer at first. The blanket was tucked up beneath his arms, but with his hands behind his head she could still see his triceps and his shoulders. He shrugged. “I’m fine now. Haru helps keep me in line.” He grinned. “Gou . . . he still wants to marry me, you know?” He looked up, his softened face illuminated by a single shaft of moonlight through the wooden blinds. “I don’t know what I did, but the gods seem to think I deserve him.”

“You _loooove_ him,” Gou teased, and Rin chucked a pillow at her face.

“I need to sleep!”

She tossed the pillow back and he hugged it, rolling over to face away from her, and she wondered how he felt sleeping without Haru. They’d spent years sharing a bed and now he could only cuddle a pillow, knowing his fiancé was just across the hallway. She’d only spent a couple nights warmed by Makoto’s body and was half-crazy herself, knowing how close he was. She stared Rin, at the little bit of hair sticking up on the back of his head. His hair was too long, she thought, and wondered if Haru pestered him about it.

But she smiled as she slinked out of bed, crawling toward him as quietly as possible in case he was already asleep. Even though he didn’t turn and still breathed steadily, she knew him well enough that he could be faking it. He could probably feel her through the floorboards, picturing the way she kneeled beside his head and watched. But she didn’t care as she pushed back his hair, then gently kissed his temple. “Goodnight, big brother.” He didn’t reply, but she didn’t wait around to find out whether he was asleep or not.

Gou faced the wall as she slept but still knew when Rin rolled over, watching her if he was awake. He didn’t say anything, but that revealed nothing. And Haru and Makoto were in the room across the hall, probably whispering between them. And she smiled, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by the boys she loved most.

 

* * *

 

Rin and Haru were gone before they woke the next morning, but Makoto didn’t want to leave too late and fight the crowds to the stadium. She wanted to enjoy the experience of Makoto making breakfast for them, but he was too busy rushing for it to feel anything like the domestic morning she would’ve liked.

When they got to the train station, though, and Makoto was whining about the crowds, she didn’t complain. It seemed everyone in their car was heading to the stadium, and they were pressed together around the hoards of strangers filling the train. Gou peered up at him even as they were jostled closer, and was satisfied enough that Makoto put one arm around her and held the bar affixed to the ceiling. She pouted at the bar, so far away, and he softly laughed.

“It’s a little high,” he said, though he reached for it effortlessly. “I always thought it was weird place to put them.”

Not that she would’ve fallen over as the train started to move, anyway, with all the bodies squeezed into the car. But she was pressed flush to Makoto’s chest, lifting her head so they could talk and she could breathe admist the crowd. Gou was unsurprised that Makoto knew Rin’s and Haru’s records from memory, too, and Gou supplemented with their competitors and who was a threat to beat them in the races.

“I’m nervous about the relay,” she admitted, as the train bumped along the tracks. “Yazaki does not have a national rank, so he’s going to slow them down.”

“Remember how Rei couldn’t even swim?”

Gou was certain that Makoto—and their surrounding passengers—could feel the vibration of her giggles. He held her closer, even though the train wasn’t any more packed than it was a second prior.

When they piled out at the station she grabbed his hand, following the crowd to the natatorium. Gou had attended more high school meets than she could remember, but never had she seen a stadium like the one at Tokyo and the countless spectators filing through its doors.

“This is just _qualifying_ ,” she said, finally able to walk beside him. He squeezed her hand, still holding on even as the crowd thinned and they got inside. “Is it weird being on this side?”

“A little,” Makoto admitted, as they headed for the bleachers. He stopped in the middle of the row, waiting a moment before he sat, staring at the pool stretched out below. Sunlight came in through the room’s tall windows, which spread out across the water’s surface. Officials were already bustling around, but none of the swimmers were in sight. “It’s really weird,” he said as they sat, and they immediately began to scan their shared program.

It came back to her like a flash, like she’d never been away from the pool. She pointed out names, and they both squealed over spotting Rin’s and Haru’s beside each other. Gou looked up, frantic, even though the swimmers hadn’t arrived yet, and neither one of their events would be first.

But she needed to see them. The bleachers began to fill up, and Makoto’s arm went around her waist. “There’s their coach,” Makoto said, pointing to a black dot at poolside. He was talking with one of the officials.

“Is that Fujioka?” Gou asked, as the backstroke swimmers began to approach the pool. But even though Gou had never met their teammates, there was no mistaking him—he was a quiet presence, but tall, standing over the rest.

Professional qualifying was just as exciting as the main event. Gou felt it, and she felt Makoto’s excitement, too, as he held to her. She felt it in the crowd around them, cheering after each individual heat. When Haru finally showed up at poolside, she leaped to her feet.

“Haru-nii!” He couldn’t hear over the applause, and he certainly couldn’t see her, but she bounced anyway as he approached the starting block. Makoto tugged at her shirt to get her to sit down. But she was back on her feet when he finished first, and then later when Rin appeared for the one-hundred meter free. They both qualified for all their events, not that she was surprised, but she still hugged Makoto each time their names were announced or a close-up of their faces displayed on the screen overlooking the pool.

“I can’t wait for the finals,” Makoto said, and Gou was too excited watching to answer.

There was a short break before the medley qualifying. The bleachers emptied out for restroom or smoke breaks, but Gou leaned into Makoto as they watched interviews on the oversized screen. The remaining spectators watched, too, and the surrounding noise died down as they listened to swimmers talk about their motivation and their desire to win.

When Haru and Rin appeared on-screen together, Gou gripped Makoto’s thigh and leaned forward like she could see better. They were both in their swimsuits with goggles around their necks, standing side by side, chatting as the camera zoomed in.

Rin was all smiles, talking about how great it felt to be in that pool. Makoto couldn’t hold back a laugh as Haru stood silently beside him, staring unblinking into the camera. But when the interviewer turned to him, he was prepared. He was asked about his injury in Australia, and Haru scowled slightly as Rin chuckled beside him. “Can we forget about that?” Haru asked, and Rin squeezed his shoulder.

“They look so good,” Makoto said. Rin winked at the camera before it turned to the next pair of swimmers.

The medley heats didn’t last nearly as long as the individuals—and their team had made it, too, despite Gou’s worrying—and then they couldn’t get out of the stadium fast enough. Makoto was going on and on about how great they’d been, and Gou was nearly dragging him outside to find their professional swimmers. Gou stood on a low stone wall, peering over Makoto’s head as she scanned the crowd.

Part of her extensive searching was to find Haru and her brother, of course, but part was to avoid conversation with Makoto. Though they’d sat together for the duration of qualifying, and spoke the entire time about swimming and times, they’d completely avoided revisiting their confessions of the previous night. In the way he’d held to her and leaned in close to speak during the races, she knew that he burned to finish the conversation. But that moment wasn’t the time, nor the place; Gou hoped that he knew that, too. Even though he stood right in front of her, and she held his shoulders as they watched people pouring out of the stadium, she didn’t want to discuss it. Not then, as she gripped the fabric of his shirt when she spotted Rin. And certainly not when he and Haru rushed for them, when Gou used Makoto’s shoulder for support as she stepped down from the wall. Makoto’s hand lingered on the small of her back, but dropped the moment Rin approached with hugs.

Their relay teammates were with them, and Makoto and Rin both eyed Yazaki carefully as he stood too close to Gou. She waved it off, but Rin scowled as Haru elbowed him in the ribs. Fujioka was more a gentleman, bowing low as they were introduced.

Rin and Haru’s sponsors had provided a limousine for them, which wasn’t designed for the six people who piled into it. But they squeezed in, anyway, talking of an impromptu beach trip and takeout dinner. Rin immediately sat beside Gou so none of the other boys could. She rolled her eyes as Makoto sat across from them, and as Haru positioned himself on the floor between Rin’s legs. She leaned over to ruffle Haru’s hair, catching his smile as he obediently bowed his head. Already, Yazaki was whining about being hungry (he reminded her a little of Nagisa) and Fujioka was turned toward the driver to offer directions.

Rin and Makoto were discussing dinner options, and Haru was requesting mackerel, and everything felt the same as always as they drove toward the shore—besides being in a limo, of course, and their new relay teammates, and sitting across from the boy who was sneaking glances at her. Gou had turned around to stare out the window, holding firm to her brother’s arm.

_I like you, too._

She smiled, propping her chin on Rin’s shoulder as Tokyo swept by. She could wait, she decided. Makoto had been there for years, and he could wait. Now, she had her family, even if her brothers were bickering over what to eat. Even if there were new voices in the car, Fujioka admitting that he liked mackerel, too. Rin asked her what she wanted for dinner. “I don’t care,” she said, turning to face the group again. “Whatever you’re eating.”

Rin huffed at her indecisiveness but she only rested her cheek on his shoulder. He shushed the car as he punched a restaurant’s number into his phone, reviewing everyone’s food order one more time. She looked up at Makoto. He’d definitely been watching her but didn’t look away when their eyes met, unashamed as he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/98977936598) on tumblr.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 12 and 13.

The second time a limousine pulled up in front of Makoto’s house, the neighbors took notice. His second-floor housemates were leaned out the window as they watched them all pile into the car, and Gou could even see the houses across the street not-so-subtly peeking through their blinds. The driver held the back door open for them and Gou elaborately bowed before getting in. Makoto offered the driver toast with jam, which sent Rin into a fit of giggles as he belatedly closed the door.

Gou sat sideways in her seat for the entire ride, facing Makoto—Rin was actually sitting beside his betrothed this time—but her gaze was focused more on the passing city as the limo maneuvered onto the main road. She still smiled with the memory of the night before. After eating from takeout containers in the car, they’d all gone to the beach. Gou hadn’t brought a swimsuit, and felt both proud and silly to be wearing Haru’s spare jammers. She hadn’t ventured too far into the ocean, as she only wore a T-shirt with them. But she could still distinctly see Rin and Haru holding each other far out in the water, a shadow under the orange glow of the setting sun, whispering things she’d never know.

She looked across the car at them now, how her brother talked incessantly and Haru merely listened, nodding along and sometimes offering short replies. She’d always known that they were beautiful—individually and together—but it had been so long since she’d seen them right before a race. They shined more than she remembered. Though Haru was focused on Rin’s words, she knew him well enough to know his mind was filled with images of the water. And Rin wouldn’t stop talking because he was so nervous, something he’d never admit to aloud.

Makoto’s hand brushed her shoulder but she wouldn’t turn toward him, because Rin and Haru would break out of her zone the moment she moved. She smiled in acknowledgement instead and Makoto squeezed her shoulder, his silent understanding.

When they arrived at the stadium it was too early for spectators to go in, so Makoto and Gou claimed to merely walk around until the doors opened. They waited until Rin and Haru were out of sight, safely behind the stadium’s doors, before hurrying for the train station.

Despite the crowd, and having to push against the flow of pedestrian traffic, they spotted him right away—Rei was standing at the station’s entrance, having noticed them first, and was wilding waving and bouncing on his feet.

“Rei-kun!” Gou got to him first, hugging him tight as he laughed and waved Makoto over. Gou offered no time for happy reunions before she grabbed both their hands and dragged them toward the stadium. Though they were still early, she wanted to beat the crowds. The area outside the stadium was already swarming when they approached. She _had_ to see the pool, and she hoped there would be pre-race interviews on the screen, too, as they waited. Makoto and Rei were talking over her head—Makoto was asking if he had a good trip and if he was excited; standard-issue chatter. She tugged both their hands harder as they joined the flow of people through the main entrance.

“It’s beautiful,” Rei said in awe, touching the corner of his glasses when they got to the bleachers. They found a good spot near the front to squeeze in together. Rei leaned over the row in front of them, gazing down at the pool and the officials running around before the races began. “I miss this!”

She sat between them and they kept on talking over her head, but she smacked both their legs when the races began. “Onii-chan!”

“Rin-senpai!”

Gou giggled when her brother swaggered onto the pool deck. She welcomed Makoto’s arm around her shoulders, leaning toward him as Rin approached his lane. Rei side-eyed them—the outward display of affection was hard to miss—but she only smirked and kept her eyes locked on her brother.

“I see,” Rei muttered. He bit back a shriek of pain when Gou kicked his ankle. Down below Rin was raising both his arms up, waving to each part of the stadium.

“What an idiot,” Gou said with a smile.

No matter how many times she’d watch him race she still gripped the edge of her seat, and she threw her arms up in victory when he finished first. It mattered not that it was only qualifying; even those around them cheered like it was the final. And Gou cheered even harder when Rin hurried toward Haru, who was waiting with their coach to hug him.

And they cheered when Haru’s race began, when he lifted his head toward the crowd. Gou waved wildly, despite knowing he’d never see her. And they wouldn’t stop cheering as Haru mirrored his boyfriend’s victory, first to smack the wall. Makoto’s arm was still around her but it was more to keep her down; she was leaning so far forward that the row in front of them kept glancing back, with Gou’s screech of victory and pride too close to their ears. Rei swiped a tear from his eye when Rin and Haru hugged, again, and when Haru turned around to wave.

_“Haruka-senpai!”_

_“Haru!”_

It wasn’t until they’d both disappeared to the back room, out of sight, that Gou turned to rub her damp face on Makoto’s shirt.

 

When they met up with Rin and Haru after the meet, Rin wouldn’t stop pestering Rei. Haru would only watch them bicker with that small smile of his as Gou took countless photos.

It was Makoto who mentioned their missing team member, and the group _did_ feel incomplete without Nagisa’s persistent badgering. But Gou took more and more photos with the intent of sharing them all with him, and Rei smiled the widest of them all.

It was a short trip to the train station after dinner but the limo driver still agreed to drive Rei there, and Gou suspected that Rin just wanted to show off his stylish ride. Rei, as expected, blathered on about their beautiful transportation as they piled into the car. Gou immediately claimed the seat beside Makoto, already flipping through the photos on her camera before the car began to move. Haru had passed Makoto a water bottle from the mini fridge, and she caught him picking at the label from her peripheral vision. Rei’s and Rin’s voices overpowered everyone, and ultimately the others gave up trying to interrupt. When Gou looked up from her camera, there was a slight space between Rin and Haru on the seat where their hands lay intertwined. Makoto’s thigh bounced with restlessness and she set her hand on his knee.

“This one is really good,” she said, tilting her camera toward him.

“Let me see!” Rin stopped badgering Rei to kneel on the floor between their seats, craning his neck over the camera. He still held Haru’s hand, his arm stretched behind him to keep them connected.

“You look really beautiful here, Rei,” Makoto said. And then Rei was squeezed onto the seat, leaning over Gou to see the small screen, and she scooted over just a little to give him more space. When Makoto’s hand fell to her thigh, no one seemed to notice.

 

* * *

 

Gou hadn’t experienced silly crushes and butterflies in high school—not unless she counted her love of muscular anatomy—so in some cases, she felt behind on the game. When she’d crawled into bed that night, talking to her brother who lay on the floor, Haru came in suddenly to wish him goodnight. And she watched. She watched Haru lower himself to the floor, slipping beneath Rin’s blanket because to be on the outside was too far from his beloved. She watched them hold each other, resting their cheeks on the other’s shoulder, whispering simple _I love you_ s as they silently breathed. And she thought of the boy sleeping across the hallway, and how they’d had so much time in high school to get to know each other better, and how she was still at that stage of fretting over asking him out when her brother was ready to get married.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain the tears, but Haru noticed when he stood. It was a familiar gesture to him, she assumed. She wondered if he felt cold already, being separated from her brother.

But Haru smiled, looking down at Rin who was curling beneath his blanket again.

“Kou, I”—He still stared down at Rin—“love you, too.”

Though it was a different sort of love—a familial connection—she bounded out of bed, careful not to step on her brother, and fell into Haru’s open arms.

“I love you, nii-san!”

She loved him because her brother loved him, because she’d always admired Haru, because he’d always been there for his friends in his own special, silent way. She pressed her cheek to his clavicle and he stroked her hair, and Rin muttered before rolling onto his side. But he’d been smiling, too, they’d noticed.

There was only one person missing from the room, asleep across the hall, and the understanding that he’d complete their small familial circle sent her stomach fluttering again.

 

She didn’t _want_ to go back to school the following day, but at least she could stay for the medley relay. She’d been wary of their new team but they were fierce in the water, and she knew that this race counted toward their Olympic qualifying—and they’d be there. The results weren’t official, but their team’s time surpassed many of the others teams around Japan, and there was no doubt in her mind that her brothers would one day be on a plane to Rio.

She’d tried to hold back her tears in the stands, but it proved impossible when Makoto sniffled beside her. She lightly smacked his arm even as he passed over a travel-size box of tissues.

 

* * *

 

The returning train ride to her dorm was too long, and too dull, after the whirlwind of the championship meet. She was greeted by her dormmates before she’d even unlocked her room, offering hugs and congratulations and well-wishes for her brother and his super-cute fiancé. Gou couldn’t resist showing off her photos, and they all hovered around as she uploaded them to her computer.

One of her friends pointed at the screen. “And who is _that_ hottie?”

Gou smiled at the group shot, of the four boys clumsily draped over each other. Even though her brother had the best muscles, Makoto had the best smile. She’d taken the shot mid-laugh, and his arms were around all three of them.

Gou sighed, propping her chin on her hand. “He’s impossible, that’s what he is.”

She wouldn’t admit to backing out of asking him out, but everything after the final race had been against her. They’d returned to Makoto’s house for dinner, and there was never a moment that the two of them had been alone. She’d wanted him to walk her to the train station, but Haru had taken her arm without question. It was nice walking with Haru, even though she didn’t need the assistance—though he _had_ carried her suitcase—but it meant she was back at school already.

When her friends left the room she flopped to the bed, not bothering to get changed, and stared at the ceiling. Her brother and Haru were still at Makoto’s another night, and she wanted them to just _leave_ already so they could talk. It had been nice going to the meet with Makoto, rooting for their professional swimmers like they were all a family. And they _were_ family, in a sense, like they always had been. Makoto had even put his arm around her like it was nothing, like they were already dating.

Gou punched her pillow, and her roommate didn’t even turn around from where she sat at her desk.

 

The only reason Gou was back at school, and not sleeping in Midorima’s room again, was because of her early class. So she supposed she should at least show up, even though she couldn’t concentrate on statistics at all. Her notes swam on the page, a meaningless mess of formulas and numbers. She doodled in the margin, sweeping lines that were intended to be water and stick figures wearing gold medals. Not that she had different colored ink, but she could pretend those simple circles at their scrawny chests were gold.

She jolted to attention when her cell repeatedly vibrated in her pocket. It was only ten in the morning; people didn’t _call_ at that hour, not during the week when there were classes to take. She waited until the professor’s back was turned to check her phone.

_Makoto?_

A chill ripped up her spine: Something happened to Rin. Or they couldn’t get back home. Or their train derailed and they dying on the side of Japan’s countryside. She scrambled up, mumbling something about the bathroom as she passed the professor, and stood in the hallway as she dialed with shaking fingers.

“Hi!” Makoto said, sounding too chipper. “I just called you.”

She gripped the phone in both hands. “What’s wrong?!”

“Huh . . . n-nothing . . . why? What’s wrong?”

Gou slumped against the wall, closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath. No one was dead or injured; there was no actual reason for a ten a.m. phone call . . . “Nothing,” she replied. “It’s fine.”

“Oh!” Makoto groaned. “I’m so sorry, I forgot you have class now! Are you still there? Are you talking to me in class?? You shouldn’t—”

“I’m in the _hall_ ,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll call back.”

“You don’t have to call back,” she said. “It’s so boring in there. What is it?”

“No.” His voice was firm, offering no refusal. “I’ll call you later. Go back to class! I’m sorry!”

“Makoto—”

“Bye!”

Gou stared at the phone’s screen until his name disappeared, leaving her with the grinning face of her brother that Rin had apparently set as her background the day before. “He hung up on me.” She rolled her eyes, as if noticing her background for the first time. “Onii-chan, you idiot.”

She reluctantly returned to class. Included in her margin doodles were two more figures, one with an elongated torso whose arm was abnormally long to hold the hand of the skirt-clad stick figure beside him.

 _I’m an idiot_ , she thought, turning the page so forcefully that she nearly tore it out.

When the professor dismissed class, Gou couldn’t wait to breathe in the city air outside the building. July wasn’t exactly cool and comfortable, but she welcomed the sun on her face while everyone around her complained of the heat. Gou found a shady spot beneath a tree, plopping onto the ground before pulling out her phone. She hesitated only briefly over Makoto’s name before hitting “call.”

He picked up on the first ring, continuing like they’d never hung up. “Are you out of class now?”

“Yes,” she replied with a laugh. “You know my schedule.” He seemed slightly calmer than before but still laughed nervously, and she heard a slight creak that sounded like he was sitting on his bed. “What is it?” she asked.

His brief pause made her sit up straighter: the hesitation before a question, the sudden nerves before broaching unknown territory. He cleared his throat, and she could picture the way he ran his hand through his hair. Or she _hoped_ he did, pushing his hair back away from his forehead, exposing those clear, green eyes . . .

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” he asked.

Gou became conscious of her breathing, of the way her chest expanded with each breath. Breathing was weird, she thought, with the way it happened naturally, not something one typically had to think about. “Sure!”

“I mean, like”—he coughed—“maybe, if you want . . . like a date?”

Her lungs deflated all at once, and she realized she’d been holding her breath, probably too long. A _date_. She swallowed around her dry throat; the months and years of her admiration burst all at once, and she was _glad_ they were speaking over the phone, because her face was contorted in a permanent smile. She had to force herself to reply. He was _waiting_. He was waiting for her acceptance. Or her rejection.

She laughed to herself. _Rejection._

“What took you so long?” she asked, and his sigh of relief crackled over the line.

 

* * *

 

On Friday, he came out to meet her.

She’d _said_ it would be fine for her to take the trip, but her insisting was futile against his sense of chivalry. _He’d_ asked _her_ out, so he couldn’t possibly ask her to be the one to travel.

“It’s only twenty minutes,” she’d said, but it was a losing argument.

Besides, it meant she had more time to get ready. Gou hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of the date, but there were three discarded dresses on the bed and she was scrutinizing one still on the hanger. Her roommate was already out for the night, so Gou was on her own.

“I can do this,” she said, tossing the dress to the discard pile. She went with a skirt and ruffled blouse instead. They weren’t doing anything fancy—they were just visiting the art museum—but she spent far too long picking out accessories and the perfect shade of eye shadow. She kept her hair down, brushing it over and over to get out every last stubborn tangle.

Gou sat on a bench outside her dorm, ready far too early, holding her phone in both hands. For a brief moment, she considered calling her brother. She knew he’d be a pain, and it wasn’t like _he_ ever told her about _his_ first date. But she opted against it, because he’d probably call one (or both) of them during the night just to make sure they “behaved.”

Gou saw Makoto before he saw her. He wouldn’t be looking for her on the bench, so she had a moment to admire him before he spotted her.

She noticed first that his hair was pushed back, probably with a little bit of gel that she hadn’t known he owned. She’d gotten used to seeing him in clothes other than the Iwatobi uniform but he looked so _handsome_ in his burnt-orange polo, which somehow brought out the color of his eyes even more. He turned toward her dorm, completely missing her standing at the bench, and she loudly cleared her throat.

Makoto jerked around with a start. “Gou! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He took a quick sweep of her outfit, then smiled as their eyes met. “Ready to go?”

The museum was a short distance from the dorm; they walked mostly in silent. Gou was overconscious of the way her arms swung as she moved, aware of the slight space between their hands. Makoto slipped his hands into his pockets, and she huffed a wayward strand of hair out of her face.

He paid for their tickets, and she didn’t argue; it wasn’t worth the trouble, and it wasn’t that expensive, anyway. Even though the museum was close to school, it was her first time there. Makoto accepted a map from the information desk, but Gou was already moving to the first gallery without consulting it.

Admittedly she didn’t know a lot about art, especially contemporary, which graced the museum’s walls. Makoto stayed close by as they moved through the gallery, studying the same paintings and moving at the same time she did. He’d started off studying the map, but had since folded it into his back pocket. He stood closer still as they walked the exhibition, staring too long at the clouded photographs of an old Hiroshima and faces hidden behind mosaic-like prints. He didn’t protest when she hurried past the creepier-looking ones.

The way Gou took his hand was clumsy; her fingers didn’t wrap all the way around it, and he shifted the clasp so his hand was around hers instead. They moved to the next gallery, featuring larger-than-life photographs of nature and desolate winter landscapes. They stood for a long time before one where the trees seemed to sway in the frozen light of the frame.

“This is really nice,” Makoto said, keeping his voice low in the quiet gallery. The slight pressure on her hand told Gou that he wasn’t talking about the photograph.

“I was going to ask you out after the championship meet,” she admitted, keeping her eyes locked on the landscape. “But stupid Haru walked me to the train station.”

She caught the brief moment his mouth hung open before he eased back into a smile. “Haru planned that,” he admitted, taking a step closer to her. The top of her head barely cleared his chin and she looked up, staring first at his jawline before gliding up to his eyes. “I wanted to ask Rin if it was okay before I—”

He stopped short when she whipped toward him, her hair sweeping behind her and brushing Makoto’s hand before she dropped it. “You did _not_ ask my brother’s permission!”

He glanced around the gallery, but she didn’t care in the slightest that people were staring. Gou crossed her arms, glaring up at him, wishing she could push her fringe from her eyes but she was so set on _not moving_ that she couldn’t bother.

“Gou, please,” he whispered, hunching closer to her eye level. He still towered over her, which she tried not to enjoy so much. “You know how he is . . . I just wanted to . . . make sure . . .”

“Hmph.” She pouted and looked away, faintly seeing their reflections in the display’s glass. “If you have something to ask me, you ask _me_.”

Makoto sighed. “I know that . . .” He set a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t move away. “I’m sorry. I wanted to do everything right.”

She uncrossed her arms, which now hung limply at her sides, and tilted her head back with a sigh. Worry and anxiety crossed his face, the spotlights of the gallery sparkling in his eyes. Gou grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the gallery’s exit. “Let’s go.”

Perhaps he understood their destination, or perhaps he knew better to question the girl who still fumed with his attempt at chivalry. But when they were packed into a crowded elevator, and she pressed to his chest to converse space, her muscles relaxed as she felt the steady beat of his heart through her entire body.

Her unbound hair whipped around her face when they got to the roof; Makoto helped gather it one-handed at the base of her neck, and she held the bundle together over her shoulder as they approached the roof’s edge. The wind was hot, the sun blazing overhead as they overlooked the whole of Tokyo.

“Wow,” was all Makoto could say.

Gou stood at the banister and Makoto behind her, trapping her in his arms as he held to the railing in front of her. Tokyo was a child’s playset below, geometrical building and miniature trees planted at irregular intervals. Gou clutched her hair, and even Makoto’s gelled fringe unglued in the wind.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, leaning back against him.

The wind settled for a moment and Makoto released the railing to wrap one arm around her waist. He kissed her temple, then kissed it again, holding tighter as she trailed her fingers up and down his forearm.

“I want you to be my boyfriend,” she said, tilting her head back.

“Shouldn’t you ask your brother?” he teased.

Gou glared at him, but it wasn’t as menacing as she’d hoped. “I . . .” She huffed. “Fine, that was cute. At least _I_ don’t have to explain to him that I’m dating one of his friend.”

Makoto grinned. “So that’s a yes?”

She spun around, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. His hair was ridiculous now, partially held back by the gel while the wind mussed up the rest. Her own hair burst around them like a fire alight, and his lips felt just as hot when she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The museum is based on the [Mori Art Museum](http://www.mori.art.museum/eng/), though don't ask me where Gou's attending school that it's within walking distance. I make things up as I go along.
> 
> (Chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/99488260748) on tumblr.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 13 and 14.

From the moment Makoto had decided he wanted to do everything right, Gou had upset all his attempts at chivalry. In hindsight, asking Rin’s permission had been ridiculous—as if Gou couldn’t make a decision herself—but even she had admitted it was easier for both of them, and all Makoto needed to do was send Rin a simple email confirming that everything was okay.

The email hadn’t even said anything, which was Makoto’s first wildly out-of-character move—it contained only a photo of them both atop the Sky Deck, Gou’s hair a fine mess from the whipping wind. Haru had sent him a text containing only a smiling emoticon, which was somehow more surprising than the fact Makoto now had a girlfriend.

When Makoto had returned home from their date long after sunset, Shintaro didn’t give him a moment before silently staring him down. Makoto couldn’t even get to his room; his floormate sat on the top step, in the dark, nearly causing Makoto to stumble back down when he finally noticed he was there. His room door was open, which allowed a trace of moonlight to filter into the hallway from his window. So when Shintaro pushed up his glasses with his eerily taped fingers, there was still a shine on the lenses.

“Yes, we’re dating!” Makoto said, before he could ask. “Can I _please_ get to my room?”

A small smile played at Shintaro’s lips, one that Makoto had had years of perfecting how to read in Iwatobi days—even if Haru’s was never nearly as creepy. “Good.” He disappeared before Makoto fumbled for the light switch.

He video chatted with the twins over the weekend, and waited until they asked about Gou-chan before sharing the news. It drove them crazy that he’d been holding out on them, but he only laughed as Ran pretended to punch the computer screen.

“You need a lady’s point of view!” she said, sitting up straighter. “You hang out with too many boys!”

Ren rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to talk about girls the whole time, I’m out.”

“I’ll be fine,” Makoto assured her, “but I’ll come to you if I have any questions.” Ran’s green eyes brightened and she swept her hair over her shoulder, and he tried not to think about how soon she’d need similar advice.

Makoto had watched his friends slowly pair up—and Haru had shared so much about Rin that Makoto felt he, too, was part of their relationship—but to tackle one on his own was more nerve-racking than he’d anticipated. Even knowing all he did about Rin did little to prepare Makoto for his little sister.

Shintaro’s disembodied head appeared sideways in his doorway, and Makoto forgot for a second he wore a headset. When he whipped toward the sudden apparition, the wire stretched taut and jerked his head back. Even as the headset fell off onto the desk, he could hear the twins’ shrieking laughter.

“Your girlfriend is here,” Shintaro said, and promptly disappeared.

“Huh—?!”

Gou bounced into the room, and before he could motion to his laptop—and the hovering twins on the other side—she grabbed his face in both hands and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Eww!” Ren’s voice was a distant squeal over the headset, his face concealed behind both hands on-screen.

Ran was talking, though they couldn’t hear; Gou propped her chin on Makoto’s shoulder and unplugged the headset. “Hi guys!”

“Onii-chan,” Ran singsonged, “you didn’t say you were having _company_.”

“Are they done yet?” Ren asked from behind his hands.

Makoto let them talk to Gou for a while. She perched on his thigh, laughing along with the twins until their father reminded them computer time was long since over. The twins whined in unison before their parents waved goodbye, and then the feed went out.

Gou turned around in his lap, straddling one thigh and kissing him properly in greeting. Makoto held loosely around her waist, still testing his own strength, lifting his head to meet her kisses. She hummed against him, tongue prodding his lips apart, and he couldn’t stop thinking of the conversation he’d had with Rin and Haru.

_Just be like Haru. Act like an awkward idiot and pretend you don’t know what you’re doing._

_Don’t be like Rin. He’ll kill you for having sex with her in the first three weeks._

Gou pushed closer, her breasts and her stomach flush against him, her ponytail tickling the exposed skin at his collar. He played at the hem of her shirt experimentally—it was lightweight and almost sheer—and she held tighter around his shoulders as his fingertips brushed the naked skin at her waist.

When they broke apart his hand was still on her back, beneath the shirt, and she smiled down at him. It was a new sensation, having someone look down at him, and she seemed to enjoy it, too, sitting up straighter as she pulled him closer.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said lamely, her breasts flattened against his clavicle.

“Surprise!”

He had homework, but they went out for a late lunch. They’d spoken earlier that day before Makoto’s video chat date with the twins, and though they had a predetermined computer time the chats always went over. She’d have been there sooner, she explained, if the train hadn’t been late.

They held hands walking across campus, crossing into the city proper to find a cheap lunch. They opted to try a place with a cafeteria setting, where they could’ve purchased anything at all, but when they found each other across the food court they laughed as both their trays held curry.

Gou always spoke of her brothers (as she called Rin and Haru) first. Makoto kept up with their career, too, but he liked listening to Gou’s excitement. Makoto’s housemates didn’t mind watching the meets on the communal television, but Gou actually understood them. She had all of Rin’s and Haru’s times memorized, and was counting down the days until they’d return to Tokyo for Olympics qualifying.

“I don’t believe it’s so soon,” Makoto said, staring at Gou rather than eating his curry. It wasn’t until she took a bite of her lunch that he remembered his own plate sat untouched before him.

“I wish we could go to Rio, too,” she replied. “But it’s so expensive.”

“Don’t families of the athletes get some kind of deal?”

“Ha! Not enough.” Gou laughed a little too loudly, attracting the attention of a nearby table. She didn’t notice. “Besides, you’d have to come with us.”

They fell into an easy ritual only a month into their relationship; they’d talk for a while about professional swimming or their classes and, when they were alone, Gou would typically initiate the making out portion of the afternoon. It hadn’t taken long for them to adapt to each other, for Gou to find the perfect position in his lap and for Makoto to hold just firmly enough that he didn’t crush her. Gou was surprisingly resilient, and stronger than he thought, startled every time she’d push him back onto the bed.

Haru would ask him how things are going, in ways that Rin would never know they were talking about it. With their identical training schedules, Rin was usually hanging around. But he knew Haru would sit outside on the phone while Rin was bathing, or he’d send an email during a rare moment of domestic peace. But Makoto had little to report beyond their simple happiness.

“She’s not annoying?” Haru would ask, as if trying to draw out some ingrained frustration.

“She’s not like Rin, Haru.”

“That’s not nice.”

Gou wasn’t always the one to travel across Tokyo, and Makoto always ensured she knew he’d arrive beforehand. He disliked going into the girls’ dorm—Gou had seemed to convert her college friends into fellow muscle enthusiasts—but they couldn’t spend _all_ their time outdoors, and Gou’s roommate was nice enough to leave whenever he would visit.

But mostly, they hung out at Makoto’s. After lunch they returned to the house, and Makoto liked having a room to himself when it meant he could close the door behind them. He welcomed Gou’s kisses, startled slightly when she pushed him to the bed. Her hand slid up his shirt and it still felt strange to be taking it off, despite the countless times she’d seen him without it before. If anything his swimsuit was _more_ revealing, but it wasn’t until she was lying on top of him that he felt naked before her.

Or maybe it was the way she grinded her hips, or squeezed his muscles, or . . .

“What?” Gou crossed her arms to prop herself up on his naked chest.

“H-Huh?”

When they weren’t kissing, Gou had a habit of tracing his muscles. She ran a finger around the curve of his pecs, then down his side before moving to his biceps. She usually stayed there, holding his arms, and sometimes he’d flex to make her giggle.

But now he wasn’t moving, and she almost looked disappointed, and it was too late now as she moved her hands back up to his shoulders. He went to hold her tighter around the waist, but in his slight hesitation she decided to wiggle out of his arms. She sat on the mattress against the wall, folding her legs beneath her.

“What is it?” Makoto asked, as he sat up against the headboard. It was cold without his shirt, but to move meant looking away from her, which he refused now that she’d started to pout.

“You never initiate things,” she said.

“I— huh?”

She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Do you still like me?”

“Of course I do! What is this about?”

She looked away, and he could’ve taken that moment to grab his shirt off the floor, but he was frozen in place. He still tasted her tongue in his mouth, mixed with the taste of curry, and it was distracting. One second she’d been pressed to his now-cold chest, and the next she was . . . doing whatever this was. He thought maybe he _did_ need a girl’s perspective, even if it was his little sister.

“When we make out,” she finally said, turning back to him, “you never try anything else.”

His shirt always came off. He expected it now, and succumbed willingly, because of how much she liked it. Even now Gou tried to maintain eye contact, but her gaze kept on flicking down to the close proximity of his muscles. It was fascinating watching her fascination, still, after the years of being the focus of physical admiration.

“Can I ask you something?” Makoto spoke slowly, praying she would refuse, but swallowed his fear when she nodded. “Do you”—he crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally mirroring her stance—“I mean”—he sighed—“there’s no good way to ask this, but . . . do you only like me because of my muscles?”

Makoto could deal with her anger; it was worse that she wasn’t. She didn’t cry, but her arms dropped to her sides and she seemed to curl farther into herself, pressed into the wall. “I don’t believe you asked me that.”

“W-Well, you . . . I like you, Gou! I like you a lot, but . . . I have to know.”

When she slid off the bed, he didn’t try to stop her. Her shirt had lifted slightly in the back, and he stared at the pale strip of skin until she finally tugged it down. Gou’s head was turned toward the door, but he couldn’t determine whether she was looking at anything in particular.

“I should leave,” she said, tugging her hem again and smoothing down her hair.

“I think we should talk about this.” Makoto swung his legs over the edge of the bed, finally reaching down for his shirt. He pulled it over his head, quickly, in case she’d disappear in the brief moments he wasn’t looking. But she hadn’t moved at all, and there was nothing left to distract him from her stony silence. “I don’t try anything,” he belatedly added, “because I’ve never been with anyone, and I— I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, she wound up leaving anyway.

Long after the door had closed Makoto still sat on the bed, hoping to hear her footsteps returning up the wooden stairs, but the only noise was the thumping bassline from the room below. He though maybe that he should’ve followed, but by the time the idea came to him she’d have been long gone.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and stared at Haru’s name in his contacts. He would still be at practice, but that seemed a better option than risking him picking up and Rin being right there.

“He’s going to kill me,” he muttered, dialing Haru’s number.

Makoto left a message, leaving out most major details but explaining what he’d asked her. He didn’t think it was unreasonable, he explained, but she’d still been upset. He sighed, dropping the phone to the floor as he lay back across the bed. He missed home suddenly—with a bed his feet didn’t hang off of, and the twins’ constant bickering, and the refuge of Haru’s house.

It was early for dinner, but he went anyway. There was enough in the fridge for him to cook, but he wasn’t in the mood for the intense concentration that his cooking required. He wandered Tokyo instead, wishing both there was someone he wanted to hang out with and that no one would be around. He briefly considered calling Rei, but then he’d have to talk about Gou. Shintaro, too, would’ve eaten with him, but conversation with his housemate was more exhausting than cooking.

He stopped in the first noodle joint he found, craving the warmth despite the warm weather. A few older women were crowded at the booth together, paying him no mind as he perched on a stool across the room. They had a basic menu, but shrimp with noodles was fine enough.

He admired the place as he waited for his dinner, though there wasn’t much to look at. He watched the one chef cooking his shrimp, then looked around the room at the slight decorating around it. It was all traditional Japanese art, unlike the kind of things he’d seen with Gou on their first date. His eyes swept over the group of women, who all looked away when he noticed them staring.

He was a college boy, he realized, bowing his head to the chef as the bowl of noodles was set before him. The steam warmed the underside of his chin and he sat there for a moment, idly holding his chopsticks, watching the women from his peripheral vision. They seemed to have stopped staring, and he was surprised to feel slightly disappointed.

He knew he was attractive, judging by the opinion of others. Not just Gou and her muscle fetish, either, even if he _did_ win that muscle contest in high school. Haru had told him he was good-looking before, as had Rin, and there was always the attention from the girls watching at swim meets. But since coming to college, he noticed it more. He dressed modestly most of the time, but there were still times that girls—and some boys—did a double-take as he passed. Makoto was grateful that he kept in shape easily, even if it brought on some unwanted attention.

He stirred his noodles, surprised by the number of shrimp in his soup. He _liked_ that Gou enjoyed his muscles, and knew she wasn’t so shallow to date him for that reason alone. But still, he had to hear it from her.

The women left the joint before he’d finished eating, but the dinner crowd was beginning to pile in. Most were college students before their evening class, none of which he recognized. He waited for the end of Haru’s swim practice at six o’clock, but also knew Haru rarely got out of the pool the moment practice ended. He liked that some things would never change.

 

By the time Haru called Makoto was already back home, having finished his homework, and stressing over whether he should call Gou to apologize. At least the phone call meant he could put off the inevitable.

Haru didn’t even say hi. “You really asked that?”

“Is it bad?” Makoto whimpered as he sat cross-legged in the small area of his floor. “I got nervous, and she was talking about doing more than kissing, and—”

“Really?” Haru sounded unsurprised, but there was still a slight lilt in his voice.

Makoto paused. “Is Rin right there?”

It was Haru’s turn to pause, and Makoto now heard the clanking of silverware in the background.

“Is that Makoto?” he heard distantly. “Tell him I say hi!”

“Rin says hi,” Haru said.

“We don’t have to talk about this now,” Makoto said. “You can call me—”

“The blue one?” Haru cut off. “I don’t think so.”

“Huh?”

The sounds of Rin in the kitchenette faded, and then Makoto heard the distinct sound of clanging hangers.

Makoto scratched the back of his neck. “What are you doing?”

“A distraction,” Haru whispered, and Makoto smiled, even as Haru continued to rummage through clothes for a non-existent shirt. “Call her. You always say communication is important.”

Makoto sighed. “I didn’t know how hard that was.”

He heard the click of Haru’s wardrobe closing. “Matsuokas like talking. It helps.” Makoto didn’t have to see him to visualize his small smile. “And I would’ve asked for you.”

Makoto groaned. “Why didn’t _I_ think of that?!”

Haru moved back into the kitchen and conversation switched to the Olympics, and how they’d return to Tokyo soon for qualifying. It didn’t feel like a real conversation, talking about the Olympics and how they would be there. Makoto wanted to ask so many questions but Rin was calling for dinner, and judging by Haru’s quick desire to hang up Makoto guessed it was fish.

“Tell me if you find it,” Haru said before hanging up, and it took Makoto a second to figure out he wasn’t talking about the missing blue shirt.

But he hadn’t asked Haru if he should call that moment. Or that night. Would Gou be _waiting_ for him to call, getting angrier by the second that he wasn’t? But his father’s words came back to him, the simplest of relationship advice: “Never go to bed angry.”

But instead of calling, he pulled on his sneakers and got on a train.

Makoto wondered if he should bring flowers. Or anything. The closer he got to her school, the warmer he felt. He tugged on his collar and pushed back his hair; he wished he’d brought a bottle of water to soothe his dry throat. But this was _Gou_. He tripped off the train at her stop, using the momentum to burst into a jog. He bypassed a flower stand without a second glance, feeling too much like it would be a pity gift but fearing more that he’d get the bouquet thrown back in his face.

By the time he arrived at Gou’s dorm, he was panting and sweating and regretting his decision to run. Makoto sat on the front step to catch his breath, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt. He checked his phone, cradling it between his open knees, staring at the screen like maybe a notification would appear.

“Makoto?”

Her voice was soft and strained, but he didn’t have to turn to know Gou was standing on the step above him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—like she wouldn’t find out he was just sitting outside her dorm. Before he had a chance to turn, she’d knelt behind him and wrapped both arms around his shoulders. Makoto looked down at those arms, so small against his collarbone, as she leaned her forehead to the back of his head.

“Gou, I . . . I’m sorry.”

She kissed the nape of his neck, sending fireworks through his nerves. “Come inside.”

He dutifully followed, though he knew the way to her room himself, and it wasn’t until they were behind the closed door of her room—which was sans roommate, he was relieved to see—that he could finally see her face.

“Gou!”

She rubbed her cheek as she turned toward the desk, but there’d been no mistaking the red, puffy eyes of someone spent of tears. He raised a hand, briefly hesitating before setting it on her shoulder.

“Gou, I’m—”

“It’s not you,” she said through a hiccup. He hadn’t noticed it at first but now saw a small box on her desk. It was cream-colored, like the type provided by a jeweler. Gou pushed it toward the edge of the desk, closer to him, like she didn’t want to risk picking it up herself.

Makoto glanced at her, though she’d turned her head away again, but still he nodded as he picked up the box. It took little effort to slip off the lid.

Tucked into the fluffy, white batting was a familiar-looking medal, child-sized, slightly tarnished with a frayed ribbon. He flipped it over, like that would provide an answer, but he knew first-hand that these childhood medals were never personalized.

“Is this Rin’s?” Makoto asked, though it looked too weathered to be one of theirs.

Gou shook her head. “It was Daddy’s.”

The box was small enough that he could cup it in both hands, as if protecting it. Gou hugged his arm and rested her temple on his shoulder, explaining the phone call that had sent her into a crying fit. Her mother couldn’t get to Tokyo for Olympics qualifying, she’d said, but wanted Rin to have the medal when he made it.

“So Daddy can be with him,” Gou said.

Makoto fitted the lid back on, carefully setting the box back onto the desk. Gou lowered her head and he took her into his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin as slight drops of water dotted his collar. He kissed the top of her head, then tilted her face up to kiss her lips.

It wasn’t an apology but it was the start of her acceptance; Gou stood on her toes, and Makoto leaned his head down to meet her halfway. Tears slipped between their open mouths as she grabbed the front of his shirt. But when she pulled away, she was smiling.

“I shouldn’t have asked that,” Makoto blurted, as she clung to his shirt.

His shoulders visibly relaxed when she laughed. “I thought about that a lot. I . . .” And now _Gou_ looked nervous, releasing his shirt to twirl the end of her ponytail around her finger. “I wanted to make sure I didn’t just like you because of your perfect muscles.”

“And?” When she glared at him, he smiled.

Gou pecked his lips again. “And I don’t, idiot.”

Makoto glanced at the door, knowing it was closed and locked but still hesitating as he twisted the hem of his shirt. “Where’s your roommate?”

“She left when I saw you running toward the building.” Gou grinned, tilting her head up expectedly. “She won’t come back until I tell her to.”

A smirk played at his lips. “Really?”

Makoto stepped back just far enough that he didn’t elbow her in the face when he peeled off his T-shirt, hearing her gasp even if he couldn’t see it in the fabric’s obstructed vision. He tossed the shirt over her desk chair and before he could take a step closer again, she’d already reached out to rest both hands on his pecs.

She traced his muscles slowly, like she studied them. He shivered as her fingers trailed down to his abs, then back up his sides. He flexed his biceps as she grasped them and she paused, closing her eyes like she fought to steady herself.

When she slid her hands down to his, Makoto squeezed them quickly before letting go. He played at the hem of her shirt, running his thumbs along her belly and her hips, watching her face for resistance. But instead she lifted her arms as he pushed her shirt up, trying to stop the shaking of his hands as he tossed the shirt aside.

His breath caught in his throat and she held him now, grabbing for his hands as she walked backward toward the bed. They only sat on the edge, Makoto shirtless like so many times and Gou in her bra, and Makoto knew it was up to him if he wanted it to come off.

“I know you’re scared,” Gou said, sliding closer until their knees touched. “Sorry I get impatient.”

He shook his head, trying not to stare at her breasts even though she was allowing him. Even though he could. “I— I don’t want to be scared.” He hugged her again, hands splayed over the whole of her back as he pressed their foreheads together. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I want to be with you.”

Makoto wondered where her roommate was. He hadn’t seen her on the way in; maybe she was in a friend’s room, or maybe she’d gone out into Tokyo proper. But Gou wasn’t calling her anytime soon, not when she threw her legs over his lap and kissed him again. Makoto touched the clasp of her bra, wondering how hard it would be to unfasten. His hand slid up the band, testing the way her back felt without it. Her breasts felt different against his chest, being partially exposed, her skin cool and smooth.

It took both hands to unclasp her bra and Gou gasped when the straps slipped off her shoulders. She was breathing hard, too, her chest pressed to his, and Makoto thought he could feel how quickly her heart was beating. Unless that was his own.

“Are you sure?” she asked, and Makoto nodded even as she backed up, just enough for the bra to slide to the floor. Then she softly giggled behind her fist, and a blush crawled across Makoto’s nose and cheeks. He smoothed back her hair, his trembling fingers working at the tie that held her ponytail. She lowered her head as her hair spilled over her shoulders, cascading down her back and shoulders. When she looked up, a similar blush began to color her own cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” Makoto whispered, pushing her hair over her shoulders, then sliding a hand down around the curve of her breast. When she closed her eyes and tilted her head up, he instinctively kissed her neck; when she gasped, he thought maybe he was starting to get the hang of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/100801835923) on tumblr.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 14 and 15.

Not a day passed that Gou didn’t check the national swimming website.  Or the newspapers. Or Rin and Haru’s blog. Or text her mother for any updates she may have missed. Olympics qualifying was soon approaching, and she annoyed everyone with her incessant talk about her beautiful, talented brothers. She kept her father’s relay medal on her desk, the box open and tilted on display. Soon she would wrap it for Rin, but not yet. Not until after they’d come to Tokyo, after they’d qualified for the races they’d trained their entire lives for.

Gou had printed out her favorite photos from their blog and pasted them over her desk, which Makoto eyed warily whenever he’d come to visit. It wasn’t her fault that they were wearing only swimsuits in most of their photos, or that they’d spent hours in the weight room perfecting their muscles.

“Where are the pictures of me?” Makoto asked, scanning over the collage.

Gou jumped up to sit on her desk, rummaging through a side drawer until she procured her camera. “Take it off,” she said, nodding to his shirt.

“I— what?!”

“It has to match!” She wiggled on the desk, pushing papers to the floor as she lifted the camera to her eye. “Let’s go, Makoto. Pose like you did in the muscle contest.”

“Th-the one in high school?! That was embarrassing!”

_“Strip.”_

Makoto stared at the ceiling, pretending to ignore her poised camera and her heels clicking against the side of the desk. But then he reached over to lock the door—even though her roommate had a key—and slowly peeled off his T-shirt, the camera clicking before it came completely off.

“No one sees these,” he said, tossing the shirt over Gou’s head.

“Don’t worry.” She grinned, pushing the shirt away from the lens but keeping it draped over her head. “Onii-chan will never know. Now let me see that charm point.”

“There’s really something not right with you,” he said, though flexed as he turned his back to the camera.

It was late, long after he’d gone home that night, tucked into bed that she texted him. Makoto kept his phone nearby while he slept, a habit that started in case his family needed him but was also handy when his girlfriend wanted to say goodnight.

 _You didn’t ask for any pictures of me_ , she said. Makoto’s fingers hovered over the keys, trying to come up with an appropriate reply, when he received a photo message immediately following—one where Gou had held the phone over her head, smiling up at him as she wore nothing but a lacy purple bra. He couldn’t see anything below her waist, unsure whether she wore anything else at all.

 _Gou!_ was all he could manage in reply, running a hand through his hair as he continued to stare at the dip of her cleavage.

_Don’t be afraid to ask next time xx_

Makoto smiled, lying back again holding the phone up over his face, freely studying every visible curve of his girlfriend’s body. _You’re beautiful_ , he typed slowly, imaging the way he’d say it aloud, softly and delicately right beside her ear. He closed his eyes, holding her picture to his chest as he waited for her reply. He hummed with contentment when the phone vibrated against his skin. She responded with only a string of _x_ s, tiny kisses he could feel peppering his body.

Makoto threw back the covers and pulled off his shirt, then positioned the phone over him trying to get a good angle. The phone’s screen was too small; he couldn’t get much of himself at once. But when he sent his own photo, her reply of exclamation points confirmed that she didn’t mind he couldn’t get anything below the chest.

 

* * *

 

If not for classes, Gou would’ve spent every waking moment at Makoto’s house during Olympics qualifying. The television was on for every swim event—including the ones Haru and Rin weren’t in—even when no one was in the living room, as if the seconds it took to turn on the television were precious moments missed. When Makoto cooked his meals that week, they were often burned because he got distracted watching. When he rushed back after class, someone was often sitting on the floor watching whatever race was on.

The draw to qualifying was so intense that Gou willingly sat with Midorima, the two of them silently leaned toward the screen. Makoto came in one night just in time for the two-hundred meter free final, catching Haru waiting on the sidelines in swim cap and goggles. He was stretching his arms behind his back, staring at the pool, looking like he wasn’t paying attention until the command to mount the starting blocks.

Makoto dropped the takeout bag of food on the table, but no one reached for it as the race began.

They’d spent days—and nights—watching the races, checking the results on phones during classes and celebrating each of their victories. They’d watched countless meets over the years; they’d read articles and watched interviews. Gou had started a scrapbook of Rin’s career the moment he graduated high school, pasting photographs onto its pages and anything that even made reference to his name. The scrapbook was littered with cut-up newspapers, with color photographs from magazines and advertisements. Makoto was still on Sports Zero’s mailing list, and while the catalogues still delivered to his parents’ house they would forward them to Tokyo—especially when Rin and Haru began modeling their wares.

But it was still exciting to watch them swim as they always had, one meter at a time toward their mutual goal. When Haru finished first for the two-hundred meter free, Makoto grabbed Gou’s arm as she pressed a hand to her mouth.

“Your friends will be in the Olympics,” Midorima said, finally reaching for the takeout bag. Gou accepted a pair of disposable chopsticks without taking her eyes from the television, watching Haru calmly pull himself out of the pool as he always had. The camera zoomed in when he pulled off his swim cap, and he smiled as he shook out his hair.

“Where is your brother?” Midorima asked. Though in the next second the camera panned to their coach, with Rin sitting beside him—gripping the seat of his chair and screwing up his face as he full-out sobbed.

“What a baby,” Gou said, laughing as she opened a container of noodles.

 

* * *

 

They had a standing dinner reservation at the end of qualifying week, whether Rin and Haru had made it or not. But the dinner was a celebration—Rin and Gou’s mother was paying, as she couldn’t make it to Tokyo herself, and Nagisa had taken the trip from Osaka to come surprise them with Rei. The tears didn’t stop flowing from the moment they were all reunited, embraced in a single hug outside the restaurant with their Olympians. Their relay teammates joined them, the two of them fitting well into their little group even from the initial introductions, and they’d dragged along their coach, too.

As they were ushered into the restaurant Gou looked up at Makoto, and he gently patted the bulging pocket of his pants. Miraculously the others hadn’t noticed, but the small box was gift-wrapped and tucked away for Gou’s cue. She stood on her toes, the silent command for him to lean over so she could peck his cheek. He surprised her by quickly kissing her lips before they hurried to catch up with the others.

Gou didn’t say much during dinner—her brother sat across the table, laughing and crying, eating everything the waiter put in front of them. Under the table Makoto squeezed her knee, and she linked their ankles together as Haru tried to wipe Rin’s cheeks, again. Rin would shout at him to stop, even as more tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. In the commotion, Nagisa leaned over Rei to steal a scallop off Rin’s plate.

“Oi!” Rin tried to smack him away, but Nagisa had already dropped the scallop into his mouth.

Gou slowly set down her chopsticks and looked to Makoto. He’d been watching Haru and Rin across the table but immediately turned toward her, his attention refocused. She only had to glance at his lap for him to remove the box from his pocket, gift wrapped in silver paper with a sparkly gold bow. Gou loudly cleared her throat and stood at her seat, the table quieting instantly as they all turned toward her.

“Rin,” she said, the name too foreign and formal on her tongue, and her brother noticed. He sat up straighter, setting down his chopsticks, and even Haru set down his piece of fish to pay attention. “Mom wishes she could be here, and sent something to me to give to you. She said you should wear it during the Olympic team announcement.”

Rin looked skeptical, glancing around the table, but only Haru met his eyes. Makoto was still looking at her, deliberately ignoring Rin, trying to conceal their small secret in its last moments. When Gou nodded to him Makoto brought out the box and passed it around the table, the gold glitter from the bow decorating everyone’s hands and plates. Nagisa held to it longest before it was passed along; Rin continued to eye it warily even as Rei set it into his hands.

Rin took his time unwrapping the gift, pausing before peeling back the wrapping to drape the gold ribbon around Haru’s shoulders. Haru just leaned in closer, sprinkling gold glitter onto Rin’s shoulder as he finally lifted the box’s lid.

Gou knew what was inside so she watched Rin’s face instead, first the confusion and then the recognition. She skipped around the table to hug him, kissing his cheek as he began to cry all over again. He allowed her hang the child-sized medal around his neck, reaching for it before it had even fallen to his breastbone.

Rin began to talk. Makoto had pulled her chair closer as he draped an arm around the back, and she sat as they listened to her brother. He spoke of their father and his dreams; he spoke of how he’d adopted them as his own. The Iwatobi team knew the story from countless retellings, but listened like they’d never heard it before. Their new relay teammates also hung on every word, but Gou could only watch Rin. Makoto squeezed her shoulder and she shimmied closer, their chairs bumping and their thighs pressed together. She set a hand on his knee, and Rin didn’t stop talking even when Makoto kissed her temple.

But then Makoto stood too, moving to Haru now. “Of course we couldn’t leave you out,” he said, slipping a hand into his other pocket. “Matsuoka-san wanted to give you Rin’s medal, but she couldn’t find it.”

“That’s because _I_ have it!” Rin cried.

Haru turned to him. “You do?”

“Somewhere . . .” He mumbled, looking down at the medal on his chest.

Makoto hadn’t told Gou of his plans, so she nearly cried herself when Makoto pulled the small medal from his pocket. Haru watched as Makoto lifted the medallion over his head and carefully draped it around his neck. “You can wear mine,” Makoto said, and Haru looked down to hide the tears that he denied were beginning to gather.

The group dispersed after dinner, Makoto and Haru going off on their own with Makoto’s insistence that they catch up. Gou waited with her brother, watching them all depart, prolonging the few precious moments she had with Rin before he left Tokyo again.

“Wanna help me with something?” Rin asked, and Gou was agreeing before she knew what she agreed to.

Their hotel wasn’t far from the restaurant, and Rin was rushing for reasons Gou couldn’t get out of him. He twisted the promise ring on his finger, a nervous habit she adored that he’d started the day he and Haru began to wear them. To steer the conversation away from himself, Rin not-so-casually asked about Makoto.

“He’s treating you all right?”

Gou smiled, linking her arm through her brother’s as they approached the hotel. “He’s a perfect gentleman.”

“Good.” Rin bumped her shoulder.

“Maybe too much,” she muttered.

Rin stopped short the moment the hotel’s sliding glass doors opened to them. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” She grinned. “Are you gonna tell me _why_ I’m here?”

While Rin guided her up to the room, it surprised her that he ignored the glitz of the place. It wasn’t _fancy_ , but it was definitely fancier than any place they stayed in for high school meets. Even the carpet in the hallway was plush, the walls lined with gold sconces as she waited for her brother to unlock the door.

She found the room fairly standard when they went inside, though she did peek into the bathroom to notice the extra-large tub. Her brother was as bad as a girl, with his toiletries scattered all over the bathroom counter.

Rin stood on his toes to pull an indistinct black shopping bag from shelf of the closet, supporting it from the bottom as he carried it to the desk. Gou peeked inside, recognizing the tea set as one that had been their grandmother’s.

“What are you doing, onii-chan?”

He cupped the teapot in both hands as he lifted it from the bag, inspecting it for cracks even though they knew it was indestructible—the ancient teapot had suffered many toppled moments at their grandmother’s house when they were younger. He smiled, eyes shining as he met his sister’s curious stare. “I’m asking him again.”

Gou’s gentle smile mirrored that of her brother’s. “Onii-chan . . .”

“C’mon.” He set the teapot down and turned toward the room. “Makoto can only stall him for so long.”

She helped push the bed closer to the wall, though her end of the bed hardly budged in comparison to his. He waved her away to do it himself, and Gou helped by pulling the low table into the middle of the room instead. The bag also held the matching teacups and two candlesticks, which she set on the table, and Rin opened a package of dried cherry blossoms to set one at the bottom of each cup.

He stood and checked his watch. Gou heated water in the room’s coffee pot while Rin changed in the bathroom. When he reemerged, she couldn’t hold back a gasp.

Rin looked _good_ , wearing brown slacks and a white button-down shirt. He’d buttoned the shirt up to the neck but Gou unfastened the top few, smoothing back the collar to reveal a hint of his clavicle. “Perfect.” She pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek.

She hadn’t expected the hug that followed and the quick press of her face to Rin’s chest, his bulging biceps circled around her shoulders. His heart pounded against her cheek as he breathed rapidly, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“Onii-chan?” But she smiled, closing her eyes as she settled into his hug. “Don’t be nervous,” she said. “Haru-nii loves you.”

He clutched her tighter. “I— I’m not nervous!”

Gou giggled, breathing in his scent, trying to memorize it for the next several months that they would be apart. He allowed her to nuzzle his chest, feeling the firm muscles concealed beneath his dress shirt.

“Still care about your onii-chan’s muscles with that _boyfriend_?” Rin teased.

“Onii-chan will _always_ have the best muscles.” Gou stood up straight, deliberately holding Rin’s biceps and staring straight into his eyes. “Don’t tell Makoto.”

It was too soon that she had to hurry from the hotel; Makoto texted Rin after he’d dropped Haru off at the door. As much as Gou wanted to spy on Haru, knowing he was about to approach, she promised to bypass the lobby and sneak out a back door. She pecked her brother’s cheek one last time before hurrying out of the hotel.

Makoto had waited for her down the street, his kiss warm and soft when she approached. She clasped his hand but turned to look toward the hotel, at the room she thought was Rin and Haru’s. Most of the surrounding rooms had their lights on but theirs had only a faint glow, not lit by harsh artificial lighting but by two candles.

“Gou?” Makoto squeezed her hand.

“They’re so happy,” she said, staring up at the window. “Onii-chan is so happy.”

Makoto nodded. “Haru is, too.” He took a step closer and his body warmed her back, despite being connected by only their hands. “I know we have class tomorrow, but . . . do you want to stay over? We can watch the swim team announcement on TV.”

“Screw class.” Gou spun around, standing on her toes to kiss his lips again. “I would love to.”

 

* * *

 

She hadn’t expected to hear from her brother that night, and she took his silence as a good sign. Gou was quiet, for once, as they took the long walk back to Makoto’s house. He’d steered them toward the subway but she’d wanted to walk instead, absorbing the warm night air and all that had happened that past week.

The Olympics. Rin and Haru were going to the Olympics.

Tokyo swept by as they walked, bustling like midday despite the moon high in the sky. Food vendors were still open, their scents mingling over the sidewalk, and Gou’s stomach protested at the thought of eating any more that night. They passed groups of college students and adults in suits; they passed advertisements for films and theater. They passed everything Tokyo had to offer, and Gou still marveled that she lived in that big city—that she’d left Iwatobi for it all.

And soon, her brothers would be on the other side of the world.

“Everything okay, Gou?” They’d stopped outside Makoto’s house and he had his keys in hand, waiting to unlock the door.

Gou smiled, turning to face the street and lifting her face up to the sky. “Everything’s perfect,” she replied, then nudged Makoto closer to the door to unlock it.

Midorima was still awake in the living room, the television turned to a sports channel. He rose to shake Makoto’s hand, and then Gou’s, wishing for them to pass along his congratulations. He’d likely expected a simple “thank you” from Makoto but he continued to shake his housemate’s hand vigorously, laughing all the while, Midorima slowly backing away and trying to free himself from his clutch.

“Thank you,” Gou replied, keeping it simple, walking toward the stairs and pushing Makoto along with her.

Makoto knew how it worked, when he locked the bedroom door, peeling off his clothes and taking only a pair of sleep shorts out from the drawer. Gou watched, unashamed, even as he turned to dress, her gaze falling to his boxers as he pulled on his shorts. He handed her an oversized T-shirt, and she rolled her eyes as he turned around so she could change.

“I have a better idea,” she said, lying the T-shirt over his desk chair. He turned just enough to peek at her over his shoulder. She slinked around him, taking his hands to rest them at her waist, sliding his fingertips up the hem of her shirt. Makoto smiled, pushing up her shirt and then folding it on top of his dresser.

“You just _folded_ my _shirt_ ,” she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “Where’s the passion in _that_?”

“Sorry, sorry!” He unclasped her bra on the first try, then threw it across the room. It hit the desk lamp and he gasped, clapping a hand over his mouth, and they watched as it slowly rocked back and forth before settling into place.

Gou laughed so hard her stomach hurt, still full from dinner, and was unprepared for Makoto’s sudden crouch and the arms that clamped around her legs. She screeched as she went airborne, folded over Makoto’s shoulder as he whipped around, and flailed as he dropped her to the bed. She shielded the crown of her head as it narrowly missed the headboard.

“Gou!” Makoto scrambled onto the bed. “Are you okay?”

She inched down away from the headboard and threw her legs around him. Though she couldn’t budge his solid weight he eased down as she pulled him in, slowly lowering himself onto her body. “ _That’s_ how you do it,” she whispered into his ear, and then laughed as he rolled over and brought her with him.

Gou wouldn’t say she tested him—but she pushed their limits, seeing how far he would go. More and more he surprised her as they grew comfortable together, even something simple like watching as she dressed in the morning. But she’d never been fully naked before him, and he’d never made a motion to attempt to. It was sweet, she thought, in a way.

“Makoto,” she said, speaking through their kisses, their lips still connected. “Do you still have my picture?”

She didn’t have to clarify which one; his cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. “Of course.”

Gou sank back into the pillow, far enough to look at him—with his curious eyes, so green, his lips still parted from kissing. “Do you look at it?”

He hesitated and she felt him breathe, his chest pressing to hers with each exhale. “Yes,” he admitted. “I— I miss you when we’re not together.”

His hair was already messy and she ran her hands through it again, pushing it back from his forehead. “I miss you, too.”

“Gou . . .” The bed was narrow but he managed to lie beside her, flush against the wall and propping himself up on one elbow. She couldn’t help but stare at his chest. Gou hated that she thought of her brother, but she hadn’t lied—Rin’s muscles _were_ the best, because they were her brother’s. Because he worked so hard to achieve and to maintain them. She wondered if Haru admired them like they should be admired.

Finally, she looked up at his face. “Yes?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want to have sex?”

She froze, his hand still at her cheek, which felt suddenly, unbearably warm.

“Not right now!” he quickly added, when her eyes widened. “I-I’m just asking, not . . . offering?”

She covered her mouth as she giggled. _“Offering?”_

“I don’t know!”

She lay back down and he followed, lying side-by-side facing each other, the only time she could truly look him in the eye. She wondered what the world looked like from his height, if it looked any different than her own perspective. “I think about it,” she said.

Makoto looked strangely relieved. “Haru says I’m not allowed to think about it.”

“Please don’t bring up my brother when we’re talking about sex.”

“I’m kidding!” He eased into a smile. “I do, too.”

Gou inched closer still, squeezing one leg between his, forcing him to drape a leg over her body. Her hand rested on his thigh, playing with the hem of his shorts, and she kissed the corner of his mouth. “We don’t have to,” she said. “Not yet.”

He kissed her back. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I’m not!” She pressed a hand to his chest. “I have your muscles. That’s a lot more interesting.”

“If that’s all it takes . . .”

Makoto flopped to his back again and she was ready this time, perching on his abdomen as they rolled over and looking down the length of his chest. He spread his arms out, hands hanging over the edges of the bed, flexing and twitching his muscles as her hands roamed his body. And he watched, smiling when she smiled, holding back a laugh when she giggled.

“It would be fun,” Gou added, sliding down a little farther. She stopped when his eyes widened, sitting right at the dip of his pelvis. But then the corner of his lip twitched and he pulled her back down, wrapping both arms around her body as they kissed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter is [here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/102137079188) on tumblr.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains spoilers for Fluid Like Water chapters 15 to the end.

It didn’t seem real that summer was already upon them. But there he was, sitting on a train back to Iwatobi, with Gou sleeping on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and then stared out the window, keeping an eye out for familiar sights.

He was excited to go home, but less excited that their parents were meeting them at the train station. All of their parents. Together. Talking about them. He shivered at the thought.

“Makoto?” Gou snuggled closer, very deliberately wiggling into his seat. “Are you cold?”

“Just a chill,” he replied, tightening the arm around her.

When they pulled into Iwatobi station, Gou’s mother was the first person he saw—that burst of red hair and the complimenting red suit, like she just came from work. He felt bad that he’d noticed his parents second, standing right beside her, looking comfortably normal. But when they disembarked all three parents opened their arms to their hugs, Gou reaching them first as Makoto pulled both their suitcases behind him.

“Makoto,” Gou’s mom said, holding him by the shoulders. “Rin’s told me about _you_.”

He glanced at Gou, who was preoccupied talking to his parents and deliberately ignoring him. “H-He did?” Makoto had met their mom before, but—

Then she grinned, halting his frantic thoughts, pulling him into a hug and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Haru did, too. Don’t worry.”

He furrowed his brows. “You talk to Haru?”

They bid their goodbyes before heading home, but it wouldn’t be for long—the Matsuokas were hosting an Olympics party the following week, and their house would be open for the entirety of the games for anyone who wandered in. He still couldn’t believe that Rin and Haru would be there.

“Of _course_ they’ll be there,” Gou said that evening, as they talked on the phone before bed.

“I know!” Makoto as curled under the blanket, turned toward the wall like he had to hide his late-night conversation from his family. “Do you ever think about how they’ll be on the other side of the world?”

Gou sighed, and he heard the flop of her pillows over the line. “All the time.”

 

* * *

 

He’d arrived early to the party with the Nanases, his own parents unable to attend for the athlete’s parade. Makoto had been in charge of bringing the sliced fruit for their Western-style breakfast, and he smelled toast and fruit danishes when they walked into the house. Gou greeted him at the door with a kiss and offered them all fake Olympics gold medals, small toys that were intended as favors for a child’s party. He had to squeeze the ribbon around his head to put it on.

The television was already broadcasting a pre-Olympics show, spotlighting certain athletes who were already big names in the circuit. They all kept their eyes or ears on the TV, in case either of them were mentioned, even though they were new to the Olympics stage. They were big in Japan, not only because it was their home country but because they’d blasted through the records in no time. They’d watched and read countless interviews with both Rin and Haru, so they were hopeful that there would be a nod to them during the preshow as well.

“Look!” Gou’s mom cried, pointing at the television. The camera was panning over the vast crowd of Olympians who were lining up for the parade. They all huddled to the screen, scanning each and every face, and then collectively groaned in disappointment when the camera cut back to the commentators.

Rei and Nagisa came bounding through the front door, and Nagisa stripped down to his swimsuit before he even got to the living room. “Nagisa-kun, _please_ ,” Rei whined, as Gou’s mom laughed.

“Let’s send them a picture,” she said, pushing all her guests into the living room. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sure they’re busy,” Rei began, but Gou pulled him into the photo.

But the moment the athlete’s parade began, the texting stopped. Makoto thought it would be weird to cuddle with Gou in front of her mom, but Gou plopped right on the floor beside him. She fed him a piece of her cheese danish, and then feigned disgust as he licked the glaze off her finger. She kissed his cheek, leaving a sticky residue on his skin. He didn’t bother wiping it off.

Each country was announced, followed by the roar of their countrymen. Flags were held high, athletes waved, kisses were thrown to the camera. It was too long to wait for Japan as they all ran through the English alphabet in their heads. They quieted when the countries came to _J_ , anticipating, hoping for a glimpse of their country’s swimmers.

And then, there they were.

The camera zoomed in on them for only a moment, but Rin and Haru had their arms around each other as they waved. Rin’s cheeks shone with tears, and Haru broadly smiled. They passed the camera—everyone pointed to Fujioka and Yazaki, too, as they waved—and they were done. Japan had been announced. They were there.

“That was intense,” Gou’s mom said, sitting back and taking up her cup of coffee.

They’d plotted out their schedules for the week, planning to drop into the Matsuoka’s at any possible moment. The back door was kept unlocked, and Gou’s mom got used to seeing people crowded in the living room at all hours. Makoto wouldn’t spend the night at first, but it didn’t take long for Gou to assure him that her mother didn’t care. But they rarely made it up to the bedroom, falling asleep on the couch with the television still on.

They hadn’t heard much from their hometown Olympians during the week—Makoto and Gou would send texts, not expecting anything back, but sometimes they would answer. Rin and Haru kept the blog updated throughout the week; Gou’s laptop was a permanent fixture in the living room as they constantly checked for updates. And when Haru gave his first Olympic interview on television, Gou cried. They were sitting on the couch, Gou snuggled in the circle of Makoto’s arms. She tried to muffle her weeping but there was Haru, staring blankly into the camera and backing up slightly when the microphone was shoved into his face. “I am glad to be here,” he said in broken English, the Japanese translation scrolling on the bottom of the screen. He offered a small wave before the screen switched back to poolside.

“Do you wish you were there?” Gou asked, tilting her head back to look at Makoto.

He still watched the screen, checking out Haru’s competition for the two-hundred meter free. “I could never keep up,” he said with a smile. “But even if I could”—Makoto shrugged—“It wasn’t my dream.”

With the semifinals completed, the list of names going to the finals swept onto the screen. And there was Haru, sitting nicely in the third spot. Gou squealed, smacking Makoto’s thighs as he hugged her harder.

And the following day, when he escorted Haru’s parents to the Matsuoka’s house again, he wasn’t surprised to see the growing crowd in the living room. Sousuke was on the couch with Rin’s mom, arm around her shoulder as she fidgeted. Gou greeted Makoto in the doorway with a kiss, which made the Nanases turn away and pretend not to notice. Makoto swiped a cherry danish from the coffee table and plopped down on the floor, ready for Rin’s first Olympic heat. Gou squeezed onto the couch beside her mother, the tears already flowing as Rin stepped out onto poolside.

“Show off,” Sousuke muttered, as Rin waved both arms to wave. Gou reached across the couch to smack him in the arm.

Rin’s advance to the semifinals came as no surprise, but they still cheered themselves hoarse when his name was announced. Makoto glanced at Haru’s parents, who shared their own smiles of pride and victory. There was several hours until the semifinals and Makoto stood, stretching his arms behind him. He then extended a hand to Gou. She peered at him quizzically, but took his hand to help pull her up.

“We’ll be back before the semifinals,” Makoto told her mother.

She narrowed her eyes. “You better be.”

Gou followed him outside without question, taking in a deep breath of the warm, summer air. “It feels like I’ve been inside _forever_ ,” she said, spreading her arms wide as she spun toward the sidewalk. Her sundress twirled out around her, revealing pale thighs before it swished back down to her knees.

Makoto just watched—how she closed her eyes and tilted her head up, absorbing the sun’s rays. How her upper arms were still pale from being concealed all winter. How she stood there, waiting for him to join her, smiling as she linked her arms behind her back. She lifted up on her toes when he approached, and he didn’t mind if anyone watched from the house as he kissed her lips.

“And where are we going?” she asked, as he took her hand.

He refused to answer. She intentionally bumped into him as they walked, trying to get a hint out of him, but Makoto remained silent. But Iwatobi was a small town, and it didn’t take long for her to guess their destination. They followed the train tracks, keeping an ear out for approaching trains even though they seldom came through. They stopped holding hands when their palms began to sweat, but still walked close enough that their arms brushed as they turned in the direction of the swim club.

Technically, classes were in session. But when they walked through the lobby, no one stood at the reception desk. Makoto lead her through the employee’s lounge, which was also empty, and out to poolside where everyone was gathered.

But it wasn’t the noise and the crowd that Gou noticed first—her mouth dropped open at the floor-to-ceiling screen that had been set up in front of the wall of windows, which projected the Olympic games. It was on a commercial, and there was no sound, but she still blinked up at the oversized feed.

“Coach Sasabe called me last night to say they were setting it up,” Makoto explained.

Gou grasped his arm with both hands. “This is incredible!”

Makoto yelped when a hand slapped his shoulder, and then Coach Sasabe was squeezing himself between the two of them. “You just missed the party!” he said with a laugh. “How about we watch your brother’s heat again?”

Gou rummaged through her purse for her phone. “Not before my mother gets here!”

There was nowhere to sit, but Makoto and Gou claimed a spot on the opposite wall as Sasabe cut the live feed. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d recorded everything, but still swelled with pride when he flipped through the DVDs. Makoto slid his fingers in between hers, clasping tightly as they leaned into each other. Before long, the rest of the Matusoka’s party-goers came into the swim club, too—and Sasabe wasted no time turning on the prerecorded race.

And they stayed. When classes were over, the children would explain to their parents that former swim club members were in the Olympics—and then they stayed, too, filling the pool area to capacity. They turned on the sound when the butterfly semifinals began, chattering among themselves, but immediately quietly the moment Rin’s name appeared on-screen.

“There he is,” Gou whispered to Makoto, even though no one could miss the twenty-foot image of her brother. The room cheered as Rin waved, like he was waving to them. They quieted when the crowd at Rio quieted, listening for the whistle. Watching Rin set. Gou held Makoto’s hand so hard that he began to lose feeling in it. She took in a sharp breath when he dived, then threw a fist in the air when he came up first to begin the stroke.

Beside her, her mother started to cry. Sousuke put an arm around her shoulders and Gou leaned against her, none of them taking their eyes off the screen. Later, they would all swear that Rin was smiling during his race, like he knew. But he was definitely smiling when he finished, when his name was announced for the finals, and he turned to kiss his palm and throw it toward the camera.

“Can I pretend that one’s for me?” his mother asked, as all four of them wiped tears from their cheeks.

The Matsuoka party was officially relocated to the swim club. It was fitting, sitting around the pool watching the races day after day, cheering on the hometown heroes. They cried when Haru and Rin both won a silver medal; they cried more when Haru won gold. “Best freestyle swimmer in the world,” Coach Sasabe said, puffing out his chest. “I taught him, you know!”

Makoto was surprised to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket, with everyone in Japan who would possibly call him there in that room. Except, he saw when he checked, his old roommate.

“What’s that weirdo have to say?” Gou asked, peering over his shoulder.

 _Send your friends my congratulations_ , Midorima had written.

Makoto smiled as he typed out a reply. _Of course. Come visit us in Iwatobi! :)_

But before he could put the phone away, it buzzed again—a phone call. Makoto stared at the screen, but it was Gou who swiped the phone from his frozen hand to answer. “Haru-nii!” She twisted away when Makoto tried reaching for the phone, giggling as she cupped her hand over the receiver. “He’s right here! Why are you calling?! Is my brother there?” She looked up at Makoto, then leaped to her feet and motioned for him to follow. Out in the hallway, they could put on speakerphone with little interference.

“Onii-chan?”

“Gou!”

“Haru? Are you there?”

“Makoto?”

“Listen,” Rin said. “I don’t wanna stay on long. But”—he paused—“we’re getting married.”

Makoto and Gou rolled their eyes at each other. “We know,” Makoto said.

“Here,” Haru added. “We can get married here.”

Gou pouted, but it didn’t last long. Makoto watched her as Rin explained the plan, which included a live video feed so those in Japan could attend. He looped an arm around her, tilting their heads together with the phone between them. It seemed right that they marry in the country where they’d achieved their goals, where their entire lives had changed. They may not return home right away, Haru said, planning a week-long honeymoon following the Olympics. Makoto and Gou both laughed when Rin yelled in surprise.

When they hung up, they made no motion to return to poolside. Gou leaned against him, pressing her face to his chest, and he kissed the top of her head. “They’re getting married,” she said, holding him around the waist. “My stupid brother is getting married.”

“And _Haru_ ,” Makoto said in awe, and they both dissolved into giggles.

Out in the pool area, they could hear that Haru’s gold-medal race was on, again. There were no live races at that hour but everyone still remained at the swim club, rewatching their victories and reminiscing about the old days. Makoto rested his lips on the top of Gou’s head, gently swaying to silent music. Gou kissed his chest through his T-shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asked, but when she lifted her head, she smiled. She ran a fingertip across his jawline, then down the plane of his nose. She tilted her head up, and he leaned in to kiss her lips.

He thought it would be strange to kiss her in the swim club, in the hall he’d rushed up and down so many times since his childhood. Where his friendship with Haru had blossomed, and where they’d all met the pushy red-haired boy who’d end up connecting them all. Makoto remembered, too, how Gou would follow her brother around, how even back then she’d cling to Makoto because he was the only one to pay attention to her.

Gou looked at him quizzically when she pulled away. “What are you smiling about?”

He pushed her bangs away from her face and kissed her forehead. “Everything.”

“Do you want to get married, too?”

“Huh?!” Gou laughed when he leaped back, covering her face when his cheeks flushed. “That’s not . . . I don’t . . . !”

She strode closer to hug him again, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “I’m not getting married while I’m still in school,” she said, failing to hide her smile. “Sorry, Makoto.”

He twined his fingers through her ponytail. “I guess we’ll have to wait.” He pecked her lips again. “A _long_ time.”

A head poked into the hallway and when Makoto looked up, he saw it was Sousuke. “Are you done making out?” he asked.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Gou replied, turning to face him. “What’s going on out there?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “We’re all going for pizza. Coming?”

They would be back; the swimming schedule was etched into their minds. They took up half the small restaurant, the Iwatobi High Swim Club with their friends and family. Gou and Makoto sat across each other to link ankles under the table.

“I love Tokyo,” Gou said, “but I love being home even more.”

Makoto nodded, sliding a foot up her bare leg. “I think I’ll come back,” he said.

Gou caught the slight flicker of hope in that simple statement, and the way he watched her. Waiting. She smiled as she stirred her soda with a straw. “Me too.”

It wasn’t a promise of marriage. It wasn’t even a commitment, sitting in a pizza parlor among everyone celebrating their friends’ victories. Sousuke was sitting to one side of Gou, Rei on the other, talking over her head as they discussed Rin’s perfect form. Gou wiggled her sandal off to rub Makoto’s ankle with a bare foot.

“Onii-chan will be happy,” she said, glancing to either side to make sure her neighbors didn’t hear—Sousuke and Rei were animatedly discussing swim theory, and more than likely ignoring her.

“He’s already happy,” Makoto said, as a waitress began setting pizzas all along the table.

Gou hiked her foot up into his lap, and he wasn’t even surprised. He’d stopped being surprised by even the wildest of Gou’s ideas; it bothered him more that her foot was resting between his thighs and he wasn’t bothered by it. “Not just the Olympics,” she said. “Or Haru.” When Makoto raised his eyebrows Gou only smiled, nudging the inside of his thigh with her toe. He slipped one hand under the table, grabbing her foot before all the blood rushed to his groin. It was impossible to overlook the mischievous smirk as a pizza was set between them, and then Makoto _did_ glance at Rei and Sousuke—but now they were preoccupied with who could grab a slice faster.

“As long as _you’re_ happy,” Makoto said, lightly rubbing her ankle.

Gou reached for the pizza, pushing a slice onto Makoto’s plate before taking one for herself. Despite the hand on her foot she managed to slide it over, rubbing his thigh again, though thankfully not as high as it had been before. “You’d know if I wasn’t,” she sternly replied, though the threat fell hollow.

Makoto laughed as he took up his slice of pizza one handed. “I know,” he said. “Trust me.”

Beneath the table her foot twitched, and then both her feet were propped up on his chair. She laughed when the color drained from his cheeks, and he sat up straighter and spread his legs wider to accommodate her small feet. Maybe he _could_ still be surprised by her antics, but as Gou wiggled her toes—way too close to his crotch for his liking—he decided her surprises were what made everything a little more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([Here](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/104125749943) on tumblr.)


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